


WildSide

by The_Last_Phoenix



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Act 2 Spoilers, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood and Injury, Bratty little sister, Family Member Death, Fear, Gen, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Monsters, Non-Graphic Violence, OMG poor babies WHY, Orphans, Pain, Protective Big Brother, Shapeshifting, Siblings, Vikings, Werewolf AU, Werewolves, Wolves, because square enix set this up perfectly and didn't even notice, erik is a werewolf, pack war, were!erik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26664505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Last_Phoenix/pseuds/The_Last_Phoenix
Summary: Act 2 spoilers! A terrible pack war breaks out between the Snaerfelt and Highlander werewolves, leaving devastation in its wake. Orphaned in the tragedy, Erik and his younger sister flee for their lives and struggle to survive.This is the story of Erik's life before the events of DQXI, highlighting his wolven bloodline and his thieving days.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	1. The Highlander Raid

**Author's Note:**

> ACT 2 SPOILERS!!!
> 
> \---
> 
> This AU is meant to easily flow into the canon game (and even some favorite fanfics), with the intent that it could even be imagined that Erik is, in fact, secretly a werewolf throughout the course of the game's events. As such, I plan to end the story sometime around the jailbreak or the jump. 
> 
> I really wanted to delve deeper into Erik as a character and give a reason to why he has so much wolven imagery tied to him in the game. (I.e. the ability "Nose for Treasure," his frequent references to being able to smell treasure in-game, the wolf sigil embroidered onto the back of his Lupine Look cape, the fact that Mia (as Gyldygga) becomes a giant golden wolf, and of course the pep power "Wild Side," the namesake for this story).
> 
> I also hope to explain why, later in life, he shows a preference for his human form over his wolven one.
> 
> \---
> 
> This chapter contains:  
> violence  
> implied death of family members

# Chapter 1: The Highlander Raid

The moon rose slowly over the frosty peaks and valleys of the Snӕrfelt, casting a silvery sheen over the snow-laden treetops. In the still, silent night, a chorus of visceral howls arose, carrying across the frozen land and bearing a declaration of war.

Shadows moved in the forest, fleeting demons occasionally illuminated by the chilly shafts of moonglow filtering through the dark canopy. Huge paws pressed clawed prints almost silently into the fresh snow.

They emerged into firelight on the fringes of a settlement, and their eyes burned as brightly as the embers drifting into the night sky. 

Wolves.

And standing among them, a man, broad in chest and shoulders, heavily scarred across his entire body and wearing only leather breeches and a heavy winter cloak. 

He peered through the dancing flames with eyes full of smoldering hate. 

On the other side of the central bonfire, skulking canine forms slipped between stoic log cabins, fur shining in the light from the windows. The streamed together like water, gathering to form a blockade against the intruders.

Cabin doors creaked open. Men and women stepped out into the night, and with the silver light of the moon falling upon them, one by one, they changed. Their bodies gleamed like the heavenly circle, hunching forward and dropping to the ground on all fours.

Hands compacted into paws, dense fur overgrew their skin and clothes, and round faces stretched into long muzzles full of razor-sharp teeth. Only one of them retained his humanity as he strode towards the fire. His dark blue, tousled hair whipped wildly in the icy wind. 

Low snarls rose up around him as he drew to a stop before the bonfire, and through it, he stared at his enemy.

The Highlander Alpha.

The two men exchanged no words. The declaration had already been made, and the only resolution was bloodshed. Around them, the growls of the two opposing packs amplified, but the Alphas stood their ground.

At last, the Alpha of the Snӕrfelt surged forward in defense of his pack, his home, and his children. His body transformed as he sailed above the fire, and when he collided with the Highlander Alpha, they met with tooth and claw.

The night erupted with the vicious roars and agonized screams of werewolves.

* * *

Inside of one of the cabins, a very small boy with touseled blue hair strained to peer out the window into the dark night. The noises outside frightened him, but he couldn’t see anything.

“Erik! Get away from the window!” His mother hissed, snatching him up.

Erik cried out, wriggling to be free, but his mother firmly set him down in a far corner, shielded from the window by a large bed. He looked up into her eyes and saw something he’d never seen there before: fear. Erik’s heart sprang into his throat.

Mama wasn’t afraid of anything.

“You need to hide, do you hear me? You stay down and don’t come out.” 

Erik crouched down low, his wolven instincts kicking in as his mother hurried off into the living room. She came back with a tiny, blue-and-gold-furred pup in her arms. Kneeling before Erik, Mama’s eyes darted towards the door and then back at Erik. 

She laid the pup in Erik’s lap gingerly. 

“Hold your sister. Keep her quiet.”

Erik looked down at little Mia. She was so small, so helpless that she couldn't even shift form yet...not even in the light of the moon.

“What’s happening?” Erik looked up, voice meek and trembling.

“Just _hide_.” Mama urged, hurrying back out of the bedroom and closing the door.

Mia squeaked and yawned, showing off all of her milk teeth. She started squirming and snuffling against Erik’s tunic with her tiny pink nose, whimpering to be fed.

“Shhh…” Erik hissed, laying his hand clumsily over her face and pushing her down. “Stop it, Mia…..”

Mia wiggled fruitlessly under his palm and grabbed a corner of his tunic between her teeth in protest. She tugged at it, her bright blue eyes unfocused and sleepy.

“No, Mia.” Erik pulled his shirt out of her mouth. “Stop. Be quiet, okay?”

Mia let out a long little whine that would have turned into a tiny howl if Erik didn’t wrap his hand around her muzzle to silence her.

A loud _thud_ came from beyond the bedroom door. Erik froze, his heart pounding in his ears. He leaned forward to listen, and he heard the low, vibrating sound of a growl. Erik gasped and crawled under the bed, awkwardly dragging Mia with him.

She let out a sharp cry and wriggled against his chest, but Erik held her tightly, muffling her complaints. A strange, unfamiliar smell leaked in underneath the crack in the door...and along with it, Erik smelled the sharp, metallic tang of blood. The scent pulled at his inner wolf. Erik swallowed hard, and a cold chill ran along his spine.

Something was different about _this_ blood….it smelled strongly of his pack.

A thunderous snarl ripped through the air, loud enough to send Erik scuffling backward to get farther under the bed. Mia yelped, straining against his ungainly hold. Tears of terror burned in the corners of Erik’s eyes, but all he could do was lie there and listen.

A crash accompanied the frantic scrabbling of claws against wood, and a cacophony of wild growls raged to life just beyond the door. Glass shattered. The solid clapping of powerful jaws punctuated sharp, coarse barks.

A piercing scream sliced through the noise and cut deep into Erik’s soul.

Then, everything went quiet.

Erik lay there, trembling and clutching Mia too tightly. She whined and tried to worm her way out of his arms, but he only held her tighter. He was too afraid even to shush her, so he half-tucked her under himself.

He waited. He waited and he listened, but he couldn’t hear anything. Sniffing at the air lightly, Erik still detected the scent of blood...and it seemed stronger than before. The gentle _whuff_ of a snuffling nose breathed underneath the bedroom door.

“M-Mama?” Erik crept forward, still clinging to Mia as if she were a stuffed toy.

Erik poked his head out from under the bed and peered at the light coming in from the crack under the door. A shadow passed across it. The tears prickling Erik’s eyes finally spilled down his cheeks, and his voice caught in his throat, producing only a tiny squeak.

“Mama?” He repeated.

The shadow moved sharply, and Erik flinched, scooting backward and almost squishing his sister. She shrieked, startling him.

“Mia!” Erik half gasped, half scolded.

Something heavy slammed into the door hard enough to shake the walls, and Erik’s eyes went wide. He scuttled back under the bed as it struck again, the door bowing and flexing. Erik’s tears flowed freely now, and a sob threatened to escape his throat. 

With a deafening crash, the wood door splintered and gave. Erik cried out. He frantically squeezed Mia hard against himself, and Mia yowled.

Four huge paws stalked towards the bed, barely visible from the children’s hiding place. Erik knew immediately that this was _not_ his mother...nor any of his relatives within the pack. He tried to be quiet, but he was still crying, and his breathing came in choking gasps. His stomach hurt.

A large nose swung low to the floor, breathing in his scent and Mia’s.

Mama wasn’t coming.

A dark face suddenly plunged underneath the bed, fierce golden eyes glinting like the fires of hell. Long, white teeth gnashed inches in front of Erik’s face. Erik screamed and scrambled backward until his feet hit the back wall. 

The bed lurched upward as the massive werewolf surged up underneath it, claws raking the floor. Erik scuttled away and backed out from under the bed, clinging to his squealing sister and stumbling to his feet as his instincts took over.

_Run._

His little feet slapped against the wood floor. The werewolf under the bed thrashed violently to free itself, and Erik hesitated for a moment. The beast, though pinned at the shoulders, stood between him and the door.

It dug in with its back claws and savagely wrestled its way backward. The bed slammed loudly against the wall and the floor.

_Run._

With his eyes on the raging creature, Erik sidled towards the door. Splinters dug into his tender soles, but he barely felt them. The living room opened up to him, but he dared not turn his back on the beast.

Its hulking shoulders slid free, and its head turned. Burning eyes flickered in the darkness and locked onto Erik with murderous intent. A low growl roiled in the huge werewolf’s throat.

_Run!_

Erik whirled and tore through the living room, only vaguely aware of the carnage that he passed through. He saw glimpses of overturned furniture and claw marks gouged into the walls and floors. The stench of blood overwhelmed him. He felt his body burning. His skin prickled, and even through his ragged, sobbing breaths, he felt _anger_.

The front door hung wide open, broken off of its hinges. It rattled in the icy wind. Erik felt Mia slipping in his grasp, but he was almost _there!_ He caught sight of something pale, lying on the floor at the corner of his eye.

_Mama?_ Erik stopped, horrified.

A heavy jolt shook the floor under his feet, and Erik stumbled and fell. He lost his hold on Mia, the jolt wrenching a piteous cry from her mouth. Erik reached for her, his fingers brushing her downy soft baby fur.

He froze. Hot, metallic breath washed over his skin, and a deep, guttural snarl passed over him, sinking into his bones. Erik felt his mouth go dry, and his head snapped towards the sound. His heart nearly stopped. The massive werewolf stood over him, fangs bared, red-tinged saliva dripping from its stained jaws.

Gripping terror pushed Erik’s teetering transformation over the edge. Lanky wolven limbs replaced his clumsy human ones, and his outstretched hand on Mia’s coat became a useless little paw. Erik desperately pulled his legs up under himself and scrambled to snare Mia’s scruff with his teeth.

Sharp pain stabbed fiercely into his sides before he could reach her, and Erik squealed as the floor went out from under him. Huge jaws clamped around his small body, and the entire world shook, crushing the breath from his lungs. His vision darkened.

Then, in a jarring crash, he tumbled free, striking the hard, wood floor with a whimper. He hovered on the brink of unconsciousness, barely aware of the raging altercation exploding around him.

His head swam, and slowly, his dark vision came into hazy focus. Violently thrashing shadows arched and twisted at his peripheral. A tiny little whine pierced through the fog in his head.

_Mia…._

Erik slowly pushed himself up to all fours. His legs trembled violently, but he staggered forward. Mia waddled across the floor on tiny, uncoordinated legs. Her little head bobbed as she moved, and in his drive to protect his baby sister, suddenly Erik’s surroundings came alive. 

Two adult werewolves locked jaws on each other’s necks, both thrashing and jerking in a violent bid to subdue the other. Erik recognized one of them as the Snӕrfelt Alpha--his father. The illusion of safety in his presence brought Erik immense relief.

Pop would protect them. 

The huge intruder raised a giant paw and wrestled it over Pop’s shoulder, pushing against him and rising up onto its haunches. Pop held onto the intruder’s throat, struggling to pull the huge werewolf down onto the ground. The intruder pushed all of its weight onto Pop, and Pop’s jaws ripped free of the intruder’s neck, head striking the floor.

The intruder pinned him, and suddenly Erik’s whole world came crashing down.

Pop couldn’t protect him. Couldn’t protect Mia.

Erik moved without any further hesitation, his survival instinct and adrenaline the only things driving him. He ran for Mia, snatched her up by her nape, and bolted for the door. 

He charged into the bitterly cold night. All around him, the settlement writhed with the bodies of warring werewolves. Their snarls and screams echoed loudly in the deep, frozen night. 

So, Erik ran as fast as his small legs would carry him.

He ran past the central bonfire, its bright orange glow illuminating the fallen, and he hurried past the borders of the Snӕrfelt settlement without looking back. The dark shroud of the frozen forest swallowed him and his sister completely, and Erik kept running. He wove between the towering trunks of ancient pines and scrambled across stretches of frozen rivers, paws sliding as he scrabbled for traction on the thick ice. The frigid air burned his lungs, and his legs began to tire. His paws numbed with cold. 

Still, he ran.

Slowly, his adrenaline wore off. Mia, small though she was, weighed him down. His jaw, neck, and shoulders ached from carrying her. Searing pain gripped his legs and coiled around his ribs, but a pain far greater ripped into his heart.

Exhaustion set in, and Erik’s pace slowed. He limped along in the shadow of a great cliff. The merciless wind whipped through his blue fur, like knives slicing into his skin. Desperately, Erik searched for some safe haven to get out of the cold.

He walked for what felt like hours until at last, he could go no further. A snow-blanketed thicket suddenly seemed as welcoming as any cabin. He battled through the thick tangle of branches and deep into the undergrowth. The heavy layer of snow covering the bushes shielded him and Mia from the wind.

At last, his little body gave out, and he collapsed onto the cold, hard ground. Mia whimpered, but Erik lacked the strength to quiet her. All he could do was lie there with his chin on her back, gasping for breath.

Cold, fear, and pain caught up with him, and Erik quaked in his overwhelming misery. He didn’t know what to do. Lost and completely alone, he had no means of caring for himself, let alone his baby sister.

_Mama…... I want my mama……._

The thought ran through his mind over and over again. Maybe if he cried long enough, cried hard enough, she’d hear and come to him like she always used to before….

Somewhere in the distance, a cold, hollow sound rose up, echoing across the Snӕrfelt. Other voices quickly joined the haunting call, and soon the triumphant howls of the Highlander Pack filled the night with cruel music.


	2. Barbaric Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik awakens to find both himself and Mia rescued by a band of brutal human beings. The horrors that he witnesses as the barbarians debate whether or not to kill the pups for their hides soon pale in comparison to the fever that overcomes Erik.
> 
> At least Mia is safe....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Chapter 2! 
> 
> I've been having a lot of fun with this story, although I hurt for Erik and his baby sister.....
> 
> This chapter contains:  
> blood  
> references to death

#  Chapter 2: Barbaric Rescue

Erik awoke in darkness to the crisp, dusty scent of burlap, the musky stink of human sweat, and the rusty-edged odor of dried blood. He tried to move, but terrible pain stabbed at his sides and hips. He cried out, frightened, confused, and alone.

A tiny whine answered him, muffled and weak.

_ Mia? _

Suddenly, Erik worried as much for his baby sister as for himself. He sniffed the stale air frantically, and despite his own pain, he wriggled in the blackness until he brushed up against something warm and soft. He pressed his nose into it, and Mia’s scent flooded his senses. She let out a tiny little whimper, so frail that it sent Erik’s heart racing in panic.

She was cold and hungry, but he had no way to help her.

_ Don’t cry, Mia...please don’t cry….. _

He thought, though he wanted to himself.

All that Erik could think to do was keep her warm. He curled around her as best he could in this strange, dark, tight space, and he rested his chin on top of her. She squeaked pitifully and worked her way into the curve of his belly, prodding at him with her little nose.

_ I can’t feed you, Mia.  _ Erik thought sadly, wondering what to do.

The sharp  _ zip  _ of twine rapidly coming undone snatched Erik’s attention, and a light suddenly poured down on him from above. He pinned his ears flat against his head and squinted up into the brightness. A huge hand slid down through the new opening and loomed over him threateningly.

In a panic, Erik lashed out at it, grabbing hold with his teeth. From somewhere beyond, a loud, booming voice shouted. The hand jerked back, pulling Erik with it, and suddenly Erik emerged from the opening of a cloth sack. He tumbled from the top of a sledge and into the snow.

The heavy smell of reindeer dung struck Erik immediately. He lifted his head, but before he could even get a good look at where he was, the hand came down on him again, grabbing him roughly by the scruff of the neck and hauling him up, shaking him.

Erik screamed in pain, wriggling desperately to be free. The more he struggled, the tighter the hand gripped him. This person, whoever they were, lacked any scent of werewolf, and Erik realized that they must be purely human--something he had never seen before. His mother once told him stories of the human world beyond the Snӕrfelt, but he never thought of them as anything but strange fairy tales.

Erik whimpered and stopped trying to get away. He was only hurting himself. He let himself hang limp in the human’s iron grip and cracked open his eyes to look at them.

He found himself face to face with a huge, hairy man clad in armor and furs. His scarred, rugged visage and fierce eyes terrified Erik, but the sour smell of his breath was far worse than his appearance. 

Strange words came from the man’s mouth. He barked and raged, holding Erik up and shouting until other humans came over to see what he was going on about. Erik couldn’t understand what they were saying, only able to pick out a few familiar words here and there. It was almost as if they spoke an entirely different language from his pack.

They all yelled and argued with one another until the man holding Erik suddenly thrust him out towards the others, shaking him until his head hurt. Erik yelped in protest, and to his great relief, another human came forward and grabbed him out of the mean man’s hands.

His rescuer was a woman, and no less muscular than her male counterpart. Still, she held Erik a little more gently as she turned him over and over in her hands, inspecting his body, running her fingers through his blue fur, and making disapproving faces. Her hands brushed a sore spot on his side, and Erik squealed.

“This one’s hurt.” She spoke very clearly in the Trade Language of Erdrea, and Erik was relieved to understand her...for a moment. “Probably won’t live long.” She wrapped her hands around Erik’s neck.

Terror gripped Erik. He may have been a mere pup, but he wasn’t stupid. She meant to break his neck, like a rabbit in the hunt.

“Don’t kill it.” Barked a different human, coming around from the other side of the large, heavily laden sledge.

The woman’s hands relaxed from Erik’s neck, but she still held onto him too tightly for him to get away. Even if he  _ could  _ have escaped, he wasn’t sure where he would go. Besides, he refused to leave Mia. 

Erik glanced towards the sledge worriedly. She was still in there, in one of those bags.

The humans began arguing in their strange tongue again, but Erik didn’t really care what they were saying. He fixated on numerous other humans--equally large and terrifying--unloading the sacks from the sledge. They tore open the bags and hauled out large heaps of...fur?

Erik tipped his head back and sniffed the air. His eyes widened sharply.

His throat went dry as his mind slowly began processing the situation. Each unmoving mass of fur was a body...a werewolf. Stiff with death and cold, they passed from one brutal hand to the next, thrown into a pile where more humans set to work stripping their hides with tanning knives. Erik wanted to look away, but he couldn’t wrench his gaze away. Some of the wolves he didn’t recognize. He knew they were strangers--Highlanders--from the pack that had attacked his own, probably killed during the raid.

Others, he knew.

Erik wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to hide, but most of all, he wanted to find Mia and get  _ away  _ from here. Yet all he could do was stare, frozen, watching as the humans piled bloody pelts into more sacks for tanning and drying.

Through the fog of terror and disbelief, Erik caught word that he actually understood.

“He’d make a fine hood lining.” Morbid spell broken, Erik’s attention shot at once to the woman holding him, mortified by her suggestion. “Or at least a pair of gloves.”

More angry, foreign words…..and then a new hand grabbed Erik away from the woman. Another man, this one with a matting of salt-and-pepper gray hair on his head and a beard that covered almost his entire face.

He held onto Erik’s legs and stretched him out painfully, scrutinizing Erik’s body, prodding at his injuries, digging rough fingers into his fur and pinching at his skin.

Then the man grunted, said a few words that Erik didn’t know, and tucked him into the front of his coat. A shrill cry arose from the direction of the sledge, and Erik wriggled around to poke his head up out of the collar.

_ Mia! _

Erik howled to her, a long, high pitched yowl that she responded back to.

Unfortunately, the big, hairy man holding Erik took an interest as well. He made his way over to the sledge, and Erik’s heart dropped as he reached into the smallest sack and pulled Mia out. His hand almost completely engulfed her. Erik panicked, struggling to crawl up the inside of the man’s coat to get to his baby sister.

The man shoved Erik back down...and slid Mia into his coat as well. Concern for his baby sister overrode all of Erik’s other fears. He sniffed her to be sure she was alright and pressed close to her. No way was he going to let these people separate them again. 

Hiding in the darkness of the coat, Erik put all of his energies into grooming Mia. The welcome distraction helped take his mind off the gruesome horrors at the sledge. 

Yes, Mia was the only thing that mattered now. She was the only shred of light and hope Erik had because, without her, he'd have to face the terrifying reality of his pack’s slaughter alone. He could already feel himself crumbling inside, too afraid, too broken to know what to do or how to cope on his own.

He dared not try to come out from the relative safety of the big man’s warm coat. He couldn’t bear to see what other horrors lay outside.

The free ride ended as abruptly as it began. The loud, grating squeal of metal on metal assaulted Erik’s sensitive ears, even through the dense lining of the big man’s jacket. The man reached in and pulled both Mia and Erik out of their temporary haven and set them both on top of a pile of old, tattered blankets.

Erik looked around nervously, ears low, and his tail tucked between his legs. 

They were in a cave, a dark cave that reeked strongly of human bodily fluids and something else...something that Erik had never smelled before. It was a sharp, cool, and slightly metallic scent, and it tingled in the back of his nose.

That smell burned itself into his brain, remaining with him for the rest of his entire life.

It was the smell of gold.

The big man turned and walked out through the open door of a prison cell. He closed the barred gate with a screeching  _ clang _ , and Erik winced at the noise. Only when Erik recovered and ensured that Mia was well, did Erik limp across the dirty floor to investigate the bars. He tried to squeeze between them, but--small though he was--he couldn’t quite fit.

He nosed at the door, then he leaned on it with all of his minuscule weight, but it wouldn’t budge. Thoroughly thwarted, Erik paced the perimeter of the cell, searching for a way to escape. Unfortunately, the rest of the walls were solid rock.

They were trapped.

Panic rose in Erik’s chest. If they were stuck here, what would become of them? Would the humans strip  _ their  _ skins as they did with the other werewolves? 

Only Mia’s tiny whimpers of hunger drew Erik's attention away from their plight. He stumbled painfully to the pile of old blankets and flopped down beside her. The pain is his hips and sides now raged with searing heat, and he began shivering. 

Curling around his sister just for the comfort of knowing she was still with him, Erik fell into a fitful sleep.

He awakened to the horrendous sound of the metal gate screeching open. Lifting his head, the world spun around him, wrapped in a strange haze that didn't quite feel real. He shivered, despite feeling unusually hot.

The big man with the coat stepped into the cell, carrying a tin dish in his hands. He set it down carefully on the ground without spilling it, and then he stepped back out, closing the door and watching the pups through the metal bars. 

Erik fought back dizziness and fatigue to pull himself up and stagger over to the dish. The smell of fresh milk rewarded him. Mia smelled it too, all the way from her place on the blankets. She let out a shrill cry and got up on wobbly little legs to crawl over. 

Once again, concern for Mia overrode his own discomfort. Erik dragged himself to her and picked her up by the scruff to carry her the rest of the way to the dish of milk. He set her down in front of it. But Mia had never fed from a bowl before, and hungry though she was, she still didn’t understand what to do.

Erik dipped his head down and lapped at the milk to show her.

Mia mimicked him, dunking her pink nose a little too deeply into the bowl and making herself sneeze. Erik worried as he watched her, but as she licked the milk from her nose and mouth. The taste of long-awaited nourishment motivated her to try again.

She wasn’t very good at it. 

Erik might have found it funny...if they had been safe at home, with Mama and Pop looking on. Now it only brought him fresh grief. Still, he patiently sat with her, encouraging her to drink, showing her how it was done. Without Mama here, it was the only way to fill Mia’s tiny belly. So Erik persisted until Mia finally drank so much that she became drowsy and teetered forward into the milk.

Erik pulled her out and carried her back to the blankets. There, he cleaned her face and curled up around her to let unconsciousness claim him.

That small meal with Mia was the last coherent moment that Erik had for several days. Fever struck him, hard, and infection set into the bite wounds in his sides. 

He slipped in and out of consciousness, the line between wakefulness and dreams blurred by confusion and fleeting hallucinations. The disembodied voices of the humans faded in and out of his hearing, sometimes speaking in their strange language, sometimes speaking in the common trade language that almost everyone in Erdrea spoke. 

Among them, Mia's cries echoed hauntingly, tugging Erik towards reality, but never quite leading him all the way there. 

He dreamed about her, about how small and helpless she was, lying on his paws. And he dreamed about fire, fire that transformed into the hell that he saw in the eyes of the werewolf that attacked him. 

He heard the howls of the Highlander pack, cheering the deaths of Erik's family. Young though he was, Erik knew death. Death was the fate of the hunted--the eternal stillness that became of prey before werewolves consumed their flesh. 

It was not something he ever expected to happen to his pack...to his family. 

Everything swirled together in a spinning vortex of torment, punctuated by brief moments of lucidity. The worst of which was brought on by bouts of searing pain. 

Erik found himself in rough hands that scrubbed his body vigorously with lye soap and dunked him underwater. He squealed and yowled, gasping and desperate, too weak to free himself from the living nightmare. The hands prodded at the bite wounds on his sides and washed them some more until Erik’s throat and lungs burned from his agonized protests.

It felt like it went on forever...a never-ending cycle of poking and examination, followed by vigorous bathing. 

At last, a heavy cloth enveloped him, darkening his entire world. Erik thought he’d find relief, then, but the rough hands gripped him through the fabric and toweled him dry with little regard for his comfort. 

When he saw light again, Erik found himself looking up through bleary eyes at the big man with the coat. The man reached for a brown, glass bottle and opened it. The harsh, burning smell of alcohol stung Erik’s nose, and once again the man seized him in an iron grip, pouring the liquid over Erik’s wounds.

The intense, searing pain overwhelmed Erik’s tiny body. He continued to scream, but he couldn’t even hear himself any longer. All he knew was the raging, burning fire in his sides...and then blackness.


	3. Children of Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik undergoes training to become a loyal pet to the Viking Chief.
> 
> When the Vikings depart for a raid, Erik and Mia escape their prison to enjoy a rare moment of freedom together. But when the Vikings return, it's discovered who--and what--the children really are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's two weeks late, but I hope the wait is worth it for everyone! It's a long one, at least!
> 
> Here we see a glimpse of what life is like for our young werewolves before they're roped into working for every scrap that they have. 
> 
> This chapter contains:  
> References to abusive behavior by the Viking Chief towards the children.  
> Mild language

#  Chapter 3: Children of Wolves

Moons passed.

Erik couldn’t see them, but he could feel their distant pull, calling to him from beyond the rocky walls of the cave.

Time cooled Erik’s fever, then healed his wounds, and at long last obscured his memories of that dark night. Gradually, his mother and father transformed into shadows in the recesses of his mind--names without faces, figments of a dream in a past life that didn't even feel like  _ his _ anymore. 

His mind completely blocked out the most traumatic moments of the Highlander attack, though shadows of vicious werewolves and their burning eyes haunted his dreams. Often, he found it hard to sleep, and only Mia’s warm presence and soft breathing lulled him.

Erik's whole world centered around Mia. She was the only thing driving him not to give up hope in the dirty, lonely cell that became their home. She was his only remaining reason to live.

The Vikings, as Erik now knew the human pack, kept them alive--physically--but only just. They fed the pups once a day, enough to sustain them, but not nearly as much as they needed to grow strong and healthy.

Every day, the Chief--the big man in the coat and the one that Erik came to recognize as the human Alpha--came to check on them. Erik’s fear of the man dwindled somewhat, but he never trusted him. He distrusted  _ all  _ of the humans, and he hated how they handled him and his sister, seizing them by the scruffs to hold them still, appraising them like objects, then tossing them back into the cell for another lonely day.

“Vargr!” The Chief announced his arrival using the word that Erik now associated with himself.

Erik flinched and looked up from the bone he was chewing. 

The Chief stood at the gate, briefly scrutinizing the pups. Erik drew up into a sitting position and stared right back. Mia bounded around Erik, full of youthful enthusiasm and oblivious to the fact that she had eyes on her. She pounced on Erik’s tail and grabbed it in her teeth, pulling on it, thrashing her head back and forth roughly as if she intended to kill it.

Erik half-turned toward her and showed his fangs silently, sweeping her away with his paw. She tumbled backward, but came charging back the instant she found her feet. Trying his hardest to ignore her persistence, Erik watched the Chief open the lock on the cell and slip inside. 

A long, coiled rope dangled from one of his hands, and immediately, suspicion urged Erik to avoid him. He wanted to run into the corner of the cell and escape those huge hands, but his greater concern for Mia kept him rooted in place. Erik glared at the Chief with piercing blue eyes and stood protectively over his little sister, who was now on her back, rolling around on the floor and swatting at Erik with all fours.

The Chief didn’t look at Mia. He wanted Erik.

Erik crouched down, ears back and tail tucked, though he dared to show the Chief his teeth. The silent threat rang hollow, and the Chief knew it, snaring Erik by the scruff and swiftly tying the rope around the pup’s neck like a noose.

The Chief stood up and tugged on the rope, jerking Erik forward. The sudden pressure on his throat made Erik choke. He coughed and gagged, flying into a panic and thrashing around. The more he fought, the tighter the rope grew. Erik bit it, his sharp teeth quickly fraying the weave.

A sharp yell from the Chief startled Erik, and suddenly the ground rushed away from the young pup as the Chief hauled him up and carried him out of the cell, slamming the door closed behind them. Erik immediately spat the rope out and--in desperation to return to Mia--struggled to climb up over the Chief’s shoulder, digging in his claws like a cat.

The Chief’s mighty hands gripped Erik from both sides and yanked him away, holding him out at arm’s length.

“Stǫðva!” The Chief roared.

Erik winced, but he didn’t stop struggling.

The Chief carried him outside, and the sudden change of scenery distracted Erik enough that he stopped squirming and paused to smell the cold, icy air. It hit his lungs in a clean, refreshing burst, and Erik thought that it was the sweetest thing he ever smelled.

And then the Chief set him roughly on the snow-covered ground and dug unyielding fingers into Erik’s shoulders.

“I’ve had just about enough of you.”

Erik’s instinct to struggle fell away at the sound of a familiar language. His bright, blue eyes opened widely, and Erik looked up at the Chief in sharp surprise. Both of Erik’s oversized puppy ears perked up, and he cocked his head to the side curiously.

“Heh…” A nasty smile spread across the Chief’s face, one of revelation and a measure of sinister consideration. “I don’t know what sort of wolf you are--” 

The Chief slowly released his hold, giving Erik the most freedom he’d had in many months. Erik wasn’t an idiot, though. He took note of the Chief’s hand still clutching the rope, and he knew that if he tried to run, he’d choke again.  _ That  _ didn’t sound like fun.

_ I’m not gonna run away. _

Erik huffed a disdainful snort through his nose, never once taking his eyes off the Chief.

_ If I ran, I’d just go straight back to Mia.  _

“--But...I know you’re not normal.” The Chief crossed his arms. “You and Ylgr  _ both _ .”

Oh, how Erik hated the names that the Vikings called them. He didn’t know what the words meant, but they sounded so harsh. It certainly didn’t help that every time the Vikings addressed them that way, they injected as much contempt as possible.

The Chief continued, “By now you should have grown nearly to full size, but both of you are still useless whelps.” The Chief knelt in front of Erik and grasped his chin, turning his head from side to side and examining his face. “What’s your secret?”

The Chief’s question disconcerted him, cementing the preconceived idea in Erik’s head that the Vikings never needed to know about who he and Mia  _ really  _ were. Wary of it before, primarily due to a desire to maintain the status quo and avoid upsetting their captors, now Erik was certain. Erik jerked his head away and flashed an icy glare. 

A shadow of thinly veiled annoyance flashed across the Chief’s face. “I don’t like your attitude.” He stood up swiftly and jerked upward on the rope, throwing Erik off-balance. “No matter  _ what  _ you are, I’ll teach you respect!”

Erik coughed and pawed at the rope around his neck, growing irritable. He wished that the Chief would just put him back in his cage and leave him alone.

“Sitja.” The Chief commanded flatly.

Erik had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and he didn’t really care. He kept trying to work himself free without strangling himself, deciding that if he chewed through the rope…

“Sitja!” 

Just as Erik’s teeth bit into the braiding, the Chief yanked it roughly from his jaws and barked sharply, demanding Erik’s full attention with another, much harder, yank on the rope. Erik squeaked and stumbled.

Okay, so  _ maybe  _ he needed to figure out what the Chief wanted, although it irritated him that the Chief could speak  _ perfect  _ Trade Language and yet for some reason decided to bark meaningless commands at Erik in the Viking tongue.

Erik sighed heavily, looking up with reluctant interest to focus on the Chief’s face.

The Chief was not impressed.

“A sér sitja!” He roared, grabbing Erik’s backside roughly and shoving it down into the snow.

Erik’s anger at the absolute unnecessary roughness of his handling transformed itself into snide humor, and Erik was glad that he couldn’t speak in this form--otherwise he might have been beaten for his reply.

_So sitja is short for sit ja ass down._ _Got it._

The Chief rose and backed away from Erik, letting the length of rope fall between them to allow greater separation. Erik watched him warily, unsure of exactly what the Chief intended to do next.

“Koma,” The Chief pointed abruptly at the ground beside his feet.

Erik understood….or at least he  _ hoped  _ he did. With slight hesitation, he nervously stood up and plodded over to the Chief, head down and ears low.

When the Chief looked down on him sternly, arms folded, Erik forced himself not to cower, fearing the worst. But the Chief didn’t punish him. Instead, the huge man said, 

“Sitja.”

Erik sat.

The Chief rewarded him, tossing a small piece of dried meat at his paws. Erik snapped it up hungrily, nearly swallowing it whole as the Chief bent down and looked directly at him.

“I’m going to make you into the terror of the North.” A mean smile showed teeth between the tangles of the Chief’s beard. “With you at my command, nobody will stand in the way of the Vikings!”

From that day forward, the daily training sessions became routine. 

Occasionally, the Chief took Mia along, too. He taught her basic commands, handling her no less roughly than he handled her brother.

That infuriated Erik, driving him to protectiveness. After he sank his teeth into the Chief's shin, the Vikings learned to muzzle him whenever they took him out.

It didn't discourage the Chief at all. Nearly all of his focus and efforts went into Erik. Day after day, the training sessions became more rigorous and demanding, leaving Erik exhausted and downright grateful to be thrown back into the cell at the end of the day.

* * *

  
  


One night, Erik sat at the bars of the cell, merely observing the Vikings, as he often did. With so little else to do, he found it gave him something to occupy his mind--to learn. He’d come to know their habits, as a group and as individuals.

Good things to know.

Especially when some of the Vikings threw morsels and others threw knives.

Begging--once a terrifying gamble--turned lucrative with enough patience and study.

And maybe having quick reflexes didn’t hurt.

Tonight, though, begging was out of the question. All of the Vikings focused intently on donning heavy armor and honing their weapons. Erik knew exactly what that meant--had learned this pattern long ago; they’d be leaving soon.

Where they went, he couldn’t begin to guess, but they always came back with sacks and crates loaded down with treasure that Erik never grasped the purpose of. Then they would drink themselves silly and pass out. 

Erik cared very little about any of that, though. Only the fact that the Vikings intended to vacate the premises interested him at all. When they were gone, he and Mia would have the entire place to themselves, and that was what Erik lived for.

He waited patiently, and when the Chief came to the cell with a sackful of bones and old scraps, Erik moved out of the way to watch him empty the contents onto the floor. It was a fair amount of food...enough to last for a few days. Erik still suspected that he and Mia would run out before the Vikings returned, but a couple of nights without a meal wouldn’t kill them. If Erik tried hard enough, he might even be able to scrape up something a little extra, once they were free of the cage.

_ If _ he could manage the escape. He feigned interest in the leftovers on the floor until the Chief left and closed the gate behind him. Then, Erik lifted his head and watched from the side of his eye as the Chief hung the jail key on a peg near the door.

Right in the spot where he always left it.

Erik ducked his head and went back to investigating the food in a bid to disguise his awareness, and he waited for the Vikings to leave.

It felt like forever.

Eventually, the booming voices and the clanging of armor died down, and the cave grew eerily silent except for the distant howl of wind from outside. To be sure that the Vikings were truly gone, Erik waited just a little longer.

At last, Erik sprang into action. He bounded to the gate and awakened the human within him, calling upon all of his self-control, logic, and reasoning to usurp the instinct driven creature that now dominated most of his life. Out of practice, his transformation took longer than it should have, but he’d done this very thing before on nights when the Vikings left, and the art was not lost.

He pulled himself to his feet, crawling up the bars with the clasp of his small, human fingers. His legs trembled slightly, unused to standing upright, but he remastered his balance quickly enough. The wait, the effort, the strain….it would all be worth it.

The keys waited for him, and Erik reached his hand out through the bars. His outstretched fingers brushed the ring, too far away to snag a hold, but near enough that a few well-aimed swipes knocked the keys free of their place.

They hit the stone floor with a loud jingle.

Erik held his breath, heart hammering wildly in his ears. He looked towards the hideout entrance for any sign of trouble. 

Nothing happened. Nobody came.

Satisfied, Erik released a breath and sprawled out on his belly, reaching until he finally seized the keys. Hard-won prize in hand, he found the lock, fumbled with the key until it clicked open, and swung open the loud, squealing door to the cell as quietly as possible, cringing the entire time.

At his heels, Mia bounced and pawed his legs excitedly, yipping and squeaking demands for him to hurry. She didn’t need to speak to be completely clear. Erik rolled his eyes, but he smiled to himself, happy to provide at least this much for his little sister. As soon as the gate opened wide enough, she scampered out and made a break for the rear exit of the cave.

“Wait, Mia!” Erik’s voice sounded strange to his own ears after a few weeks of disuse. 

Mia spun around to look at him, head tilted, blue eyes shining and bright.

“We gotta stay together,” He reminded her, “Or else you might get lost.”

With a little snort, Mia dipped her body forward into a play bow and then took off again.

“Mia, stop! It’s not funny!” Erik chased after her through the winding passages of the cave and out into the snowfield behind the hideout.

The icy air hit them both with the chilly scent of mountain pine. Mia barrelled through the deep snow, carving a wormy trail through the drifts as she bounced to try and see where she was headed. At first, Erik didn’t notice the cold, far too engulfed in chasing his sister.

Despite her size and relative clumsiness in the deep snow, she slipped between Erik’s fingers each time he grabbed for her. More than once, Erik fell into the frosty, white fluff, and Mia ran circles around him as he battled to stand.

Erik’s fear of her running away vanished, and he gave himself up to her little game. They took turns chasing, and Erik laughed musically, his voice echoing between the cliffs of the frozen valley.

He tripped and fell, skinning his knee on a rock, and as he pushed himself up and sank back to roll up his now-too-short pants to look at his wound. The shock stung him more than his actual pain. Tears welled up in Erik’s eyes at the sight of his own blood, triggering anxiety buried deep within him.

And then Mia was there.

She simply jumped into his lap and put her little paws on his chest, licking at his chin, crawling all over him. Erik let himself tumble flat on his back in the snow, clutching Mia as she protested his tight embrace. Erik sniffled and hugged his sister, despite her squirming and wails. In her, he found the courage to stop crying.

When at last Erik let her go, he simply lay there for a while, looking up at the bright blue sky. 

“I wish we could run away.” He said out loud, even though Mia wouldn’t answer him. “I wish we could go home…”

But where  _ was  _ home? Erik didn’t even know anymore.

Even if he did know, trying to get back there would be the death of them. Two small children alone in the frozen wastelands of the Snaerfelt didn’t stand a chance. Erik didn’t know how to hunt and couldn’t provide for them.

Even if by some miracle they made it back to the cabins, they’d be alone, with nothing.

They’d perish in weeks if not days.

The cold finally set in. Erik’s old nightclothes--not at all suited for the snow--were thoroughly sodden. They were also too small, short at his wrists, ankles, and stomach. Had he really grown so much? His bare feet were numb.

With a long sigh, Erik sat up and wrapped his arms around himself while Mia in her boundless energy tried desperately to get him to resume their game. 

“We gotta go in.” Erik protested.

Mia responded with a mournful little howl of disagreement.

“It’s too cold...c’mon.”

But Mia wasn’t cold, so it fell on Erik to wrangle her and carry her inside against her will. He dried her off with one of their old blankets and gave her something to eat before he stripped off his soaked clothes and--shivering--sought out something new to wear in the Viking’s hoard.

The Vikings had more treasure than they knew what to do with, but no children’s clothing in their piles and piles of precious objects. Erik settled for a large tunic that hung down almost to his feet and he tied a braided belt around his waist to hold it in place. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough.

When he returned to Mia, she was already out of the cell again, nosing around in a pile of coins at a corner of the cave. Erik sighed and scooped her up, plopping down into the jingling heap with her.

“This is money.” Erik dutifully explained, as he so often did whenever they had this freedom and Mia showed interest in anything. He knew he needed to teach her at every chance he got. “The Chief says it’s to buy stuff, like food and drinks.”

Erik wondered if he could use it to buy something to get them out of here, but he wasn’t really sure what that would be….or who he would buy it from. They were isolated from the world.

“Do you like it?”

Mia yipped at him and tried to take the coin that he’d picked up to show her.

“You can’t eat it.” He chided, pulling it from her mouth with a sigh. “Oh, Mia….”

He watched her for a while as she snuffled around in the pile of gold, digging through it with her little paws. 

Finally, he leaned down on his elbow and looked at her, a lick of blue hair hanging in his face. “You need to learn to be human.” He informed his sister sternly, but she wasn’t listening to him.

Erik pulled her into his lap and put a finger against her nose. Mia nipped at him.

“No. You need to try. You’re not a baby, okay? You can do it….”

He tried to remember the first time that he’d discovered how to change his shape. It had been entirely by accident, but all of the details faded into the recesses of his brain. He’d been too young to really understand. It just sort of happened.

Erik tried to think of how to explain how he willfully changed form, now. 

“Um...see…. You gotta...you gotta  _ think _ . Try not to feel too much, cuz when you feel, it’s too hard.” 

Mia tilted her head, puzzled.

Erik grunted. “It’s like, say you want to be a human. You gotta think of something to do. Like...you have to make a plan. You have to try to be  _ smart _ . Not like a stupid dog.” 

They weren’t dogs, and Erik felt wrong for using the term. It was a derogatory name that the Vikings used for them all too often, and it stuck inside his head, emerging when he was frustrated.

“Then, if you want to change back, you can feel again. Stop thinking and just be sad or mad or whatever.” 

Mia snorted at him, and he could tell that she didn’t quite get it, if she was even trying.

Erik groaned. “I dunno how to explain it. Just do it, okay?”

With a growling whine, Mia scooted backward out of Erik’s lap and barked a very clear ‘no.’ Not a real word, but the sentiment behind it was exactly the same.

“Stop being a brat.” Erik huffed.

Demonstrating the process to her didn’t seem to help much, either. Erik shifted form back and forth until he was too spent to try it again, and with a grumble of defeat, he flopped down on his back--human once more.

Mia jumped up onto him and sat on his chest. She was small, but so was he, all things said and done, and her weight was almost crushing in Erik’s exhaustion.

“Owww…” He moaned a complaint, rolling over and sliding her off. 

Mia kept climbing all over Erik as if he were a mountain, and despite his initial protests, she started nosing his neck until she struck a little ticklish spot and sent Erik squealing into a fit of giggles.

“No, stoppit!!! Mia!” He laughed, curling up and trying to hide his neck from her.

Undeterred, she found a different spot at his ear.

Erik squeaked loudly and writhed, his eyes tearing up. He laughed until his sides hurt, and he couldn’t breathe. Finally, Mia relented, and she laid in the pile of gold coins, right in front of his face, looking at him with her head on her paws and her tail wagging slowly back and forth.

At last able to catch his breath, Erik reached out a hand and placed it on top of her head, scruffing at her ears. “Someday, when you’re big and strong, we’ll get out of here.” He promised Mia. “Then we can go home.”

In his mind, Erik knew that they didn’t really  _ have  _ a home. In his heart though, he still believed in it.

Their precious time alone together, without the Vikings lording over them constantly, ended all too soon. As their food ran out, Erik realized their keepers would soon return, and he kept their excursions outside of the cell to a minimum, just in case the Vikings returned early.

He continued trying to coax Mia into a transformation, but she never obliged. Frustrated and tired of trying, Erik decided to forgo the lessons in favor of reading Mia to sleep each night. He’d found a book in the treasure hoard...and while he actually didn’t know  _ how  _ to read, Erik loved showing Mia the pictures and making up his own stories.

* * *

  
  


The night the Vikings returned, everything changed. 

It was all Erik’s fault, he realized later, but he was powerless to stop it. Not for lack of trying, though. 

The raucous celebration and loud arguments that broke out between the Vikings as they all laid claims to portions of treasure finally died down. Drunk and staggering, many of the warriors collapsed wherever they stood. 

Erik curled up beside Mia as she slept, and he gave himself up to his dreams, trying not to think about training in the morning or the hunger in his belly. The Vikings had been too wrapped up in their business to bother checking on the pups, despite Mia’s crying for their attention. So, the pups slept hungry.

The clattering jingle of metal keys on stone yanked Erik out of his sleep. He lifted his head, ears swiveling as he tried to pinpoint the sound amid the brief disorientation of sudden wakefulness. Mia was gone from his side.

At once, Erik stood up in a panic. His fear abated somewhat when he saw her, standing at the front corner of their cell. Shock and disbelief struck him.

Mia was standing. On two legs. Leaning against the bars for balance and holding a long, pointed bone in her very human hands. A blanket draped around her shoulders to cover her, and her blue hair hung wildly against the back of her neck, unfettered and untamed.

Triumphant delight at seeing Mia’s transformation was squashed when Erik realized what she was doing. She’d knocked the keys off the hook with the long bone, mimicking what she’d seen Erik do dozens of times before. She meant to escape.

Erik sprang forward to stop her, adopting his human form as he ran to catch her and pull her away from the bars. She screamed, and Erik clamped a hand over her mouth, wrestling her to the ground. 

Mia was nearly half his size, and definitely no longer a baby. She was a raging, tantrum-throwing toddler, and Erik could barely keep her under control with the wild flailing of her arms. Still, her unsteadiness of human legs put her at a disadvantage, and she fell to Erik almost immediately, kicking and struggling the whole way down. Her little hands slapped at Erik’s arms and swatted the side of his jaw. Her elbow jabbed him in the hip.

“Mia! Stop it!” Erik hissed a harsh whisper through his teeth, “You can’t go out now! They’ll catch you!”

Mia squealed loudly and made a muffled protest through Erik’s fingers. The sound went straight to Erik’s gut as sharply as if Mia had punched him. He pushed her onto the ground and rolled on top of her, pinning her flat by the arms.

Big mistake.

With her mouth free, she screeched at him. “‘Emme go! ‘Emmee GOOoooo!”

Tears of rage streamed down Mia's cheeks, and her cries forced Erik to loose one of her arms to cover her mouth again.

It was too late.

“Hey! What’re you little bastards doin’ in here?!”

Erik’s heart leaped into his throat, and he lifted his head to see one of the Vikings standing at the cell bars. The man had scooped the keys off the floor and stared accusingly at the two children. Mia chomped down on Erik’s hand while he was distracted, and Erik cried out, yanking his hand away.

“Chief!” The Viking--whose name Erik did not know--bellowed, his voice echoing through the cavern.

Mia struggled to her feet, stumbling, and barely managing to get to the cell door. She reached her hands between the bars, grasping at the air as she reached towards the man.

“Wan’ out!” She cried. 

Erik ran to her and pulled her away from the door, braving another tantrum. “Shut up, Mia!” Erik wailed, now crying along with her. “Stop it! You can’t!”

The Chief emerged from the shadows of the hideout, his hulking form approaching the bars with a slow, ominous gait. His haggard face peered down at the children, shadowed by his thick hair and the darkness.

“What have we here?” The Chief growled in sinister fascination that was almost worse than anger.

“Looks like a couple of rats snuck in here looking for food.” The unnamed Viking surmised. “And they cut loose the wolves, too.”

The Chief snorted disdainfully. “Give me those keys, you idiot.” He snatched the ring from his lackey’s hand and--to Erik’s absolute horror--unlocked the cell door to step inside.

Erik clutched Mia tight against his chest, and she stopped struggling as the Chief towered over them. The Chief bent down and snatched Mia by the wrist. He jerked her free of Erik’s arms and lifted her up by the hand, bringing her to his eye level even as Mia screamed.

“Let her go!” Erik jumped up and lunged, hammering his fists on the Chief’s massive shoulder without concern for himself. “You’re hurting her!!!”

“Stǫðva, Vargr!” The Chief bellowed, setting Mia down.

She crumpled to her knees and sobbed.

Erik stopped assaulting the Chief, but his gaze filled with anger and hate as he put himself protectively in front of Mia.

The Chief grabbed Erik’s jaw in a massive hand, seizing control of his head and turning his face from side to side, scrutinizing him. Erik tried to pull away, but the Chief’s fingers tightened. He laughed darkly.

“Children of wolves.” The Chief clicked his tongue and finally released Erik. “I had a feeling about you, Vargr.”

“Name’s Erik…..” The little boy glowered, though he swiftly broke eye contact.

“You are who I say you are, dog!” The Chief roared, snatching Erik’s arm and shaking him. “I’ve been feeding and housing you and your wretched sister, least you can do is show some gratitude! Unless you want me to beat it into you lot….”

Erik swallowed hard, terror flashing through his eyes, but he said nothing.

“Or do you want your freedom?” The Chief’s voice was low and dangerous. He stood slowly, backing away and opening the gate. “Well? Ungrateful little curs? Go on, then.”

Erik peered out the open cell, but he didn’t budge. Mia, on the other hand, surged past him, stumbling as she hobbled on shaky, untested human legs. Her instincts took over, and suddenly she was on all fours, scrambling for her freedom with claws scraping stone. 

“Mia!!!” Erik cried, tearing after her.

The Chief stood aside and let them flee.

The unnamed Viking moved to try and stop them, but the Chief shoved him against the wall. “Let them go!” He shouted in the other man’s face. “Dogs always know their way home. They’ll come back...or die.”

Mia didn’t get far.

Erik chased her into the snowy woodlands--Viking hunting grounds. He lost sight of her in the snow, but he followed her tracks easily enough. Cold bit his feet and exposed legs, and the oversized tunic that hung over his body scarcely protected him at all from the bitter wind. 

At least Mia had her fur.

Erik considered changing form, but he needed to be able to grab her easily and carry her back. Now that she was bigger, that was feasible only when she was in wolf form and he, a human. 

Anger burned in Erik’s chest, conflicting with his desperation to catch his sister. 

_ Why did she have to do this? Why did she have to ruin everything? Now the Vikings know. Stupid Mia! _

Were they even safe going back? But they couldn’t stay out here, in the frozen wilderness, where the cold would claim them in days...if not hours. It wasn’t  _ fair _ .

Mia’s piercing shriek cut through the silent forest and sent a flock of snowbirds scattering from the treetops. At once, all of Erik’s fury towards her dissipated, and it left behind only fear. Erik’s slogging run surged into a full sprint through the snow. 

He found her hanging upside down by her leg in a hunter’s snare. In her desperate hunger, the bait drew her in, and now….

Erik rushed to her aid in a panic. Freeing her from the rope with cold-numbed fingers proved difficult, but his determination won out, and after fumbling with the tight loop, he managed to loosen it enough to slide her leg free. Falling into the soft snow, Mia whimpered, struggling to stand.

She was hurt….

Terrified, Erik scooped her up in his arms, and though she was heavy, he carried her back in the direction of the Viking’s hideout. He didn’t know what else to do.

When he got there, though, fear gripped him, and he stood at the rear entrance, frozen. 

The gaping doorway into the cavern never before looked so threatening, like the mouth of some horrible monster, just waiting to swallow both of them whole. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go back in.

Casting about desperately for some other option, Erik spotted the darkened opening of another cave halfway up the hill behind the hideout. It would have to do. He’d make it work. Then, at least, they’d be out of the wind and snow.

Erik carried his sister into the small cavern and found its inner chamber wide open and amenable, with small beams of light that filtered in through crevices. It was still more than a little chilly, but with some blankets….

Although he hated doing it, Erik left Mia alone in the cave with a stern warning to stay put. In pain and unwilling to protest, she obeyed, and Erik slipped back into the Viking hideout to collect the old blankets from their cell.

“And what do you think  _ you’re _ doing?” The Chief growled from behind Erik, even as Erik scrambled to bundle as many blankets as he could into his arms.

Erik whirled and looked up.

The Chief stood at the gate. Erik’s heart leaped into his throat. If the Chief closed the door…

“Please!” Erik cried out, eyes suddenly stinging and watering up. He couldn’t risk being sealed away here, with poor Mia all alone in the cave outside. “Please don’t lock me up! I’ll be good, I promise!” If it’d just been him, Erik wouldn’t have cared, but with Mia depending on him….

Tears streamed down his face.

The Chief came into the cell and bore down on him. Erik flinched, expecting to be hit.

But the Chief didn’t touch him. “You won’t run away anymore, now, will you?” His voice was gruff, and his words were almost more of a statement than a question. But they demanded an answer.

“No-no, Chief.” Erik trembled.

The Chief laughed coldly, “Good boy. Now….you didn’t answer my question. What the  _ hell  _ do you think you’re doing?”

Erik swallowed hard, eyes darting, trying to think up some sort of a good reason for taking the blankets. “Um...I...n-nothing…..”

The Chief struck him, knocking him to the floor. “Don’t you lie to me,  _ dog _ ! Unless you want to be locked up in here forever, you’ll tell me the damned truth, you hear?!”

“I-I’m sorry!” Erik sobbed, “I-it’s cold outside. I-I just wanted some blankets!”

“Hah!” The Chief straightened up, “Blankets won’t help ya. You’ll die out there...freeze into a solid block of ice in that snow.”

Erik shuddered, “I-I know...there’s a cave. A little one….”

The Chief raised an eyebrow. “You’d rather stay in a cave than in here?”

Erik nodded and looked away.

“Show me.” The Chief demanded. 

Too frightened to argue, Erik stood up slowly. He’d dropped all the blankets when the Chief hit him, but to his surprise, the huge man scooped them all up off the floor. Erik swallowed and led the Chief outside to show him the shelter he’d discovered.

To Erik’s surprise, the Chief hand-delivered the blankets and brought out a panel of wooden planks so that the children wouldn’t have to lie on cold stone. It wasn’t a real bed….but it was more than Erik had asked for, and he dared not ask for more. 

The next day, the Chief brought them a few more basic necessities along with their daily meal of stale bread and dried meat. He and the Vikings hung a door at the front of the shelter to help keep the wind out, and they strung a tattered blanket at the opening near the back of the cave to serve the same purpose.

He brought them better clothing, too, and showed Erik how to build a fire. Then, at last, the Chief provided a kettle and an iron pot for boiling water.

“If you stay out here,” the Chief grumbled as they sat beside the first warm flames that Erik had ever contributed to making, “You’re gonna take care of  _ yourself _ , you hear? I’ll give you food. And that’s  _ it _ . Unless you earn yourself more from me by working for it, you’re on your own.”

“W-work?” Erik asked, looking up at the Chief warily. 

“Yeah,  _ work _ . You’re gonna start earning your keep. Now I know you got  _ thumbs _ , you can do chores. I don’t have to wait until you’re big enough to hunt for me anymore. You’ll take care of cooking and cleaning. And anything else I ask you to do. And Ylgr is old enough, she’ll earn her keep too. Until then...you’re working double time.”

Erik blinked. He was barely five years old, and Mia had just turned three. 

“I...I don’t know how to cook….”

“You know how to build a fire.” The Chief laughed darkly, “That’s half of it. Now...let’s teach you how to use knives.”

He drew a gleaming dagger from a sheath on his hip.


	4. The Crystal City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vikings make port in Sniflheim after a raid, intent on drinking away their ill-gotten gains. The children are left to their own devices, begging in the streets. The local church offers them shelter and free tutelage, a welcome distraction from Erik's everyday life. Even better, he and Mia get a chance to play and just be kids. But between a rowdy snowball fight and an unexpectedly challenging game of hide and seek, the children get into more trouble than they can handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters so far. It was really fun writing the sibling dynamic now that Erik and Mia are just a bit older, and also giving them a chance to just have fun, despite all their hardships. I think it showcases Erik's protectiveness of Mia really well, and I like how it shows his distrust of other people deepening as he gets older.
> 
> Who can blame the poor boy, really?
> 
> I also love how carefree Mia is, just because Erik shelters her so well. She doesn't have to worry half as much as he tends to.
> 
> \---
> 
> CW:  
> Mild language  
> Reference to seasickness

#  Chapter 4: The Crystal City

Sniflheim.

A port beset by frigid cold year-round, and yet the citizens almost melted the frost with their kindness, warm hearts, and bright spirits. They kept a clean city, bereft of unsightly waste, and generally free from crime. The local church kept the people honest, and the king led by example.

The people of Sniflheim even showed goodwill towards the Vikings. Erik sensed that King Gustaf and the Chief maintained some sort of agreement between them. Sniflheim would trade with the Vikings and let them spend their ill-gotten gains in town, and in turn, the Vikings would not target Sniflheim.

Ever since the Vikings found out about the nature of the children, the Chief refused to leave them alone at the hideout. So, they started taking the children along on raids. 

Not that Erik knew what went on. The Vikings kept him and Mia on the ship every time they ventured to shore. When they came back, all Erik knew was that they brought with them more treasures for their hoard. They always smelled of human blood when they returned.

He loved sailing, though.

Unfortunately, he’d suffered from terrible seasickness on his first voyage. Hugging the railing and tossing everything he ate into the ocean soured his first impressions of seafaring. After that, the Chief pierced both of his ears, despite wailing protestations, frantic bargaining, and desperate pleas. The actual piercing hurt Erik far less than the struggle did, though. Plus, the gold hoop earrings put pressure on his earlobes, and according to the Chief, it was supposed to ward off illness.

Erik didn't really know if it worked, but he supposed it must do _something_ because, with each subsequent venture, his seasickness lessened until one day he simply felt fine the whole trip. 

Then he finally got to marvel at the sunlight playing on the waves, the sound of seabirds, and the way that the ocean met the sky on the horizon in one great swath of endless blue. 

But the very best part was sailing at night. Erik _lived_ for sitting out under the stars and dreaming. The Chief took notice of how he’d stare, awestruck, into the blackness, and started giving Erik lessons on how to navigate using patterns of stars in the night sky. The lessons challenged Erik, but they also fascinated him. 

Stargazing was the only thing that Erik actually _enjoyed_ doing with the Chief. Somehow when they talked about stars and constellations, the Chief seemed less terrifying and much wiser. Erik _almost_ admired him for his knowledge of sailing.

And then they’d pull into port at Sniflheim, and the Chief would set his goons loose and sit the children down for a lecture that--by now--had become ritual. 

Presently, Erik sat on a low stone wall outside the tavern with Mia at his side. His sister swung her feet and looked up at the Chief boredly as he spoke, but Erik used all of his self-preservation tactics to hold his tongue and not talk back. He just hoped that the Chief was feeling benevolent enough not to scold Mia.

Folding his hands in his lap, Erik pursed his lips and tried to look like he was listening.

He’d memorized the lecture long ago.

No stealing, no playing with the local kids, no talking to strangers, and _no_ ‘wolf nonsense.’

“And if either one of you decides to try to run away,” The Chief leaned over them with hard eyes, “You just remember--ain’t nobody cares about you sorry little bastards like I do. You’ll be dead without me, and you know it. I’m the only family you got.”

To say nothing of the hiding they’d get if they even _tried_ such a thing and got caught. Erik wasn’t willing to risk the Chief’s wrath with Mia, so he tried to keep her in line whenever they came here.

“So,” The Chief continued, “Be good little brats. If you behave, I might get you some new shoes.”

They needed new shoes. Mia was already growing out of hers, and they pinched her feet so that she whined about walking.

“Yes, Chief….” Erik looked down at his own feet...at his toe poking through a hole.

“There’s a good boy.” The Chief sneered and then turned to leave the children to their own devices.

As soon as he was gone, Mia hopped off of the wall and spun to look up at her big brother. As Erik smiled down at her, he realized just how big she’d gotten. No longer a pudgy baby or an ungainly toddler, she was long and lanky. It was hard for him to believe that she was as old now as he had been when the Chief had first found out about them being werewolves.

Her thick, unruly blue hair had grown down to the middle of her back, and Erik had been braiding it to keep it out of her face. It was a trick he’d learned from braiding leather straps into sword belts at the Chief’s behest. 

Honestly, he liked braiding Mia’s hair. It gave him time to talk to her, and unlike the leather, her hair was soft enough that it didn’t make his fingers sore after a while.

At first, he’d been terrible at it, but now he had to admit he thought he’d gotten pretty good. 

At least when Mia would sit still.

“Let’s play hide and seek!” She chirped.

Erik slid down from the wall and shook his head. “We can play later.” He glanced off down the road. “Let’s get some food. Aren’t you hungry?”

Mia pouted, but she nodded after a moment. “Yeah…”

Erik grinned at her and started walking on ahead, following the road up the stairs towards the grand fountain at the center of town. It was a fine piece of art made from metal and colored glass that refracted light and made the water change colors depending on the time of day.

It was also the perfect place to beg.

They weren’t supposed to be talking to strangers, but Erik didn’t count begging. He generally kept his interactions short and had taught Mia to do the same.

Townsfolk gathered to meet at the fountain or passed by constantly on treks from one side of the city to the other. Never devoid of life, it offered boundless opportunities for two young waifs. In fact, the moment they stepped into the park, Erik and Mia found themselves almost swarmed by well-meaning citizens, many of whom already knew the children from previous visits.

The rush of attention intimidated Erik, even now after having grown used to it. He warred against the instinct to run that threatened to draw out his inner wolf. No matter how sweet or caring the villagers of Sniflheim were, Erik didn’t trust them.

He’d take what they offered, but he hated how some of them looked at him and Mia with gazes full of pity. As if feeling sorry for them would change anything. 

“Erik and Mia! My my! Just look at how you two have grown!”

Erik looked up sharply after collecting a coin tossed his way from another direction. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a somewhat familiar face. 

He didn’t know her name.

He’d never asked.

An older lady, dressed warmly in a heavy parka and snow boots approached him and his sister. She always brought plenty of gifts for Erik and Mia. Mia adored her. Erik appreciated her but was still skeptical of her generosity. He always sensed that she was after something.

Mia ran over to the lady, bouncing up and down, “Whadja bring me? Whadja bring me?!”

Erik approached cautiously from behind his sister, icy eyes full of suspicion flicking over the old woman. She drew her bag around from her side, opening the top flap and pulling out a small bundle of coins.

“Here you go. This is for both of you, now, so you share with your brother, okay, Mia?”

Mia snatched the bag of coins and peered inside excitedly. “Whoa! There’s a lot in here! We could buy some coats!” She looked over at Erik, eyes shining hopefully. “Can we?”

Erik opened his mouth to speak, but the old woman interrupted him, “How about instead of spending all that in one place, you save the money and I’ll take the two of you shopping?”

Erik’s eyes widened. “W-wait...you mean...you’ll buy the coats for us... _and_ give us all this?”

The old lady chuckled warmly. “Of course, sweet thing. I don’t have any grandbabies. I gotta have someone to spoil now, don’t I?”

He couldn’t believe it. The old lady had given them money before, a few pairs of socks, even some candy...but…. _Coats_? That was expensive.

“C-Chief will wonder where we got them from….” Erik worried aloud, fearing the repercussions.

The old woman smiled and knelt between the two children, putting her hands on their shoulders. “You let me handle your old Chief. Don’t worry about a thing.”

But Erik _was_ worried. The old lady didn’t know the Chief. Didn’t know how mean he could be. She didn’t stand a chance, but if she somehow _did_ confront him and win whatever argument they had, _that_ was even scarier. Erik shied away from her touch.

“I don’t think we should….”

“Oh, please!” Mia cried, turning to look at him with sad blue eyes that Erik found hard to resist. “Please can’t I have a coat? It’s almost winter, and I’ll _freeze_!”

Erik bit his lip and rocked on his feet. His resolve wavered.

“I...well...maybe we can just look?” He knew if they even did that, they’d be leaving the store with new gear, but he wasn’t ready to outright concede.

Mia squealed and jumped on him, gripping his arm and jumping excitedly. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you!!! You’re the best!”

Erik sighed. He couldn’t say no to Mia. Not when he could make her so happy just by giving her the chance to go shopping. Still, the situation didn’t sit well with him. He swallowed nervously and looked at the smiling old lady. She looked much too pleased with herself. 

Stepping into the clothing and accessory shop brought an instant reprieve from the frigid wind outside. The little bell hanging at the door jingled over their heads, and the wooden floorboards creaked loudly underfoot. 

A fire burned in a large hearth, heating the entire store with its crackling glow. The numbness in Erik’s fingers and toes began easing with the seeping warmth, but his newfound comfort did little to assuage his unease. He clutched his elbow and hugged his arm close to himself as he shuffled between the displays of neatly folded clothes. He feared touching anything, even as he wished he could have it all.

Mia showed no such inhibitions. She flitted from one display to the next, gaping in awe at jewelry, running her little fingers through furs. The old lady stood back and watched Mia with a smile on her face, and in turn, Erik watched _her._

She was up to something. She had an expectant look in her eye that reminded Erik of how some of the other Vikings looked when they were plotting to suck up to the Chief to see if they could get a bigger share of the haul.

Erik didn’t like that.

The old lady looked over at him, and Erik swiftly averted his gaze with a deep frown.

Leather boots tapped against the wood floor, and Erik felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The old lady approached him, but he refused to look at her.

“What’s wrong, Erik?” She asked. “Don’t you want to pick out a coat?”

No. He really didn’t. He didn’t want to take anything from the old lady if she was going to be suspicious about it, and he didn’t want to have to explain to the Chief where he got the coat from in the first place.

“Chief will think I stole it,” Erik muttered, not looking up from his toes.

“Oh, now…” The old lady put her hand lightly on his head. “I told you not to worry about all that. Will it make you feel better if I pick it out for you?”

The old lady just wouldn’t quit, would she? Erik shrugged. “I guess…..”

He looked over at Mia. She was already trying on a coat, a big one that swallowed her arms. She giggled, her rosy cheeks surrounded by a fluffy fur collar. Erik’s heart softened. 

She deserved to be nice and warm this winter.

Maybe...maybe Erik could take the blame if they got in trouble. He just hoped the Chief would let them keep the coats….

The old lady picked out a leather, fleece-lined coat for Erik, while Mia settled on a padded quilt coat with a fur cowl. Mia proudly modeled her new garment for Erik and looked at herself in a mirror, while Erik modestly waited to put his coat on until they all finally exited the store and stepped back into the frigid air.

Suddenly he was very glad of the extra warmth. 

It had started snowing while they were inside.

Mia twirled her way down the street, catching snowflakes on her tongue. Erik shoved his hands into his coat pockets and watched her. The fine powder collected on her furred hood and in her blue hair. Smiling fondly at his little sister, Erik picked up his pace and ran up alongside her, snagging her by the arm and giving her a playful noogie.

Mia squealed, “Ow, hey!!! Watch the hair!”

“I’m the one who does it for you anyway.” Erik stuck his tongue out.

Mia pelted him with a snowball in answer.

“Nya, nya! That’s what you get, dogbreath!”

“Oh, it’s _on_ now, twerp!” Erik laughed, scooping up a fistful of snow and rolling it up. “When I’m through with you, you’ll be a snowman.”

“I’d be a snow _girl_ , dumbass.”

Erik laughed and flung the snowball at Mia’s head. “It’s all the same when someone comes along and kicks your snow-stuffed head off!”

Mia squeaked and turned away defensively, but the snowball hit her shoulder. “At least I’d have _something_ in my head. You wouldn’t know what that’s like!”

For a little while, Erik forgot all about the old lady, forgot about the Chief and the Vikings. He even forgot about being hungry.

Throwing himself headlong into an all-out snowball war with his sister, he lost himself completely in the moment. They wove and bobbed through the streets of Sniflheim, ducking for cover behind snow-covered signposts and street vendors selling hot coffee, carelessly disrupting lives and turning heads as they scrambled between safe places.

Neither of them was above using passersby as human shields.

Erik was quicker on his feet, and overall a better aim, but Mia proved a tricky little thing, and she used all of her cunning to lure her brother out of the open and into a small, forested park, where she could easily hide and strike from behind tree trunks.

She was a smaller target, and disappeared and reappeared in the blink of an eye.

Before long, Erik had snow down his collar and his fingers were numb. The icy air felt like knives in his throat. He needed to get back into the open streets, or he didn’t stand a chance, so he cut his losses and made a break for it.

A snowball hit him dead in the back.

It wasn’t a lot of force, but it was enough to put him slightly off-balance, and with the icy footing, he slipped and fell.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough now, children. Someone is going to get hurt.”

Erik found himself looking up at the old lady. He frowned and pushed himself into a sitting position. “I’m fine. We’re just playing.”

“You’re fine _this_ time,” The old lady chided. “But if you get too rough, someone could put out an eye.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” Erik rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet, dusting off.

Mia came running out of the trees armed with a snowball, and Erik quickly ducked behind the old lady.

“Mark my words, you little scamps will be blind and peg-legged before you turn twenty.” 

Mia ignored the old lady and kept trying to dance around her to get to her brother.

“Least if I had pegged legs I wouldn’t need shoes.” Erik snorted, circling to keep the old woman between him and his sister.

“If you had pegged legs you’d sink into the deep snow as soon as you stepped outside and you’d not be seen again until the spring melt.” The old lady warned.

Mia began giggling.

“That’s not funny!” Erik snapped.

“Yes, it is!” Mia shrieked hysterically. “You’d fall in and all we’d see is your pointy hair moving around!”

“Okay, that’s _enough_.” The old lady reached down and grabbed both Mia and Erik by the arms.

Mia blinked up in surprise. Erik froze, his wolf instincts telling him to fight. It took everything he had to wrestle them under control and not do something stupid, but he managed. Still, he cast an icy glare at the old woman as a warning.

If the woman noticed, she didn’t let on. “Why don’t you two kids come on down to my house, and we’ll warm up with some hot chocolate and a nice bowl of potato and cheese soup?”

Erik bristled. So _that_ was what she was up to. He wrested his arm away from her and looked up with furrowed brows.

“No.”

“Wait! Why not?” Mia looked at Erik, incredulous. “I’m cold and hungry! We should go! It sounds so good!”

Erik looked sharply at his little sister. “I said _no!”_

Mia glared at him. “Well, I don’t care what you say. I’m going.”

“We can’t. We have to go to church. _Remember?_ ” Why couldn’t Mia see the danger? Why was she resisting him so much?

“I don’t _want_ to go to church.” Mia pouted and stomped her foot. “I’m hungry!”

Erik grabbed Mia’s arm and pulled her up against his chest, bending to growl into her ear. “We’ll get food. We have the money. Let’s _go_.”

“I’ll bring you to the church after we have some lunch.” The old lady suggested, further complicating Erik’s efforts to dissuade his sister from being lured into a stranger’s house. 

As generous as the old lady was….Erik didn’t trust her with Mia’s safety.

“We have lessons.” Erik hurriedly tried to explain, hoping it would be enough to get the old lady to leave them alone. “We’re probably already late.”

“Oh...I see...well maybe after your lessons--”

“Gotta go!” Erik tugged at Mia, dragging her away.

He didn’t stop running until they reached the front steps of the church. The heavy wooden doors were closed against the snow, but Erik knew they were always unlocked. As he pulled Mia up the stone steps, his sister yanked her arm free and batted him away.

“What’s your problem?!” Mia hissed.

Erik frowned and shushed her, warily looking around and keeping his voice low. “We can’t go into strangers’ houses. What if she tries to kidnap us?”

Mia huffed. “So what? So we’d be locked up with an old lady instead of with the smelly old Chief and his goons. Big deal.”

“This is serious, Mia.” Erik scolded. “I don’t trust her. She was just being nice to us to get us to go with her.”

“Yeah right.” Mia scoffed, “Like she was gonna shove us in the oven and cook us for dinner.”

“Maybe.” Erik shrugged. “You don’t know.”

“Well, neither do _you_ .” Mia accused. “What if she was really going to give us cocoa and soup? What if she’s _actually_ nice?”

“...Mia...people aren’t nice.” 

“ _You’re_ not nice.” She snapped back at her brother.

But she didn’t argue anymore.

Erik almost wished she would. Her silence and pointed glares were worse than her angry shouts and temper tantrums.

With a sigh, Erik pushed open the heavy church doors and ushered Mia inside. 

The young priest met them with open arms and kind words, as he always did, offering them a place in the pews to sit and tell him of their troubles.

Erik liked the priest. He was friendly, but not pushy, and he was a great teacher. Not that Erik believed half the stuff that the priest taught them about the Goddess and Yggdrasil. If the Goddess and Yggdrasil really were watching over _everything,_ then how come they didn't watch over Erik and Mia?

Either they weren’t very reliable, or they didn’t exist.

Still, some of the lessons that the priest taught were good. Erik and Mia both learned to read because of him, and even if he taught them so that they could read religious texts, the priest _did_ let them read other books from his own personal collection.

He also taught them how to count and do basic math. He taught them about the weather and the seasons (Erik really liked those lessons) and he even taught them about the four kingdoms. It fascinated Erik to think that there was a whole world beyond the frozen wastelands.

His mind drifted to that topic while the priest walked them through a prayer of gratitude, and when the priest was done telling them a story about how Yggdrasil was the Mother of all things and how all life came from Her, Erik perked up.

“Alright, children….what would you like to talk about today?”

Erik almost jumped from his seat. “Oh! Tell us about the four kingdoms and what it’s like outside of Sniflheim!”

Mia rolled her eyes and sulked, still clearly upset with Erik.

“And what would you like to do, Mia?” The priest asked.

Mia sighed heavily. “Four kingdoms is fine.” She muttered, clearly in an effort to hurry up the lesson.

“Alright then,” The priest began, “Who can tell me the names of the four kingdoms?”

“Sniflheim,” Erik began because it was the easiest to remember, “Heliodor, Gallopolis, and uuuh…..Dundersal?”

The priest chuckled. “Close. It’s _Dundrasil_. Which of the four kingdoms is the biggest?”

“Heliodor,” Erik answered quickly. “‘Cept Dundrasil was bigger til the monsters came and wrecked it.”

The priest pursed his lips and solemnly nodded. “That’s right. Do you remember when that happened?”

Erik looked down at his hands in thought. “...Four years ago?”

Four years. That was weird to think about. It was a lifetime ago for Erik, practically. Certainly for Mia. She’d just been a baby. Erik wondered if the monsters that destroyed Dundrasil were anything like the horrible werewolf with the hellfire gaze that he still saw in his nightmares. He wished that he could hunt that demon down and slay it, just so he could go to bed without fear.

“You remember your lessons very well, Erik.” The priest praised, and Mia rolled her eyes.

In an effort to get her to join in, the priest asked her for the names of the kings. She resisted until he offered her candy if she got the questions right.

After that, she participated gladly. 

The pop quiz ended after several more questions, and then _finally_ the priest went to go get the map of Erdrea.

_That_ was what Erik really wanted. As the priest laid it out on the table near the pulpit, Erik scrambled from his seat to lean over and look at it. His bright blue eyes widened with fascination as he stared at the hand-drawn landscapes and tried to imagine what it would be like to go to each of those places. Mia crowded in to see too, but she was too little to peer over the top of the table, so the priest scooped her up by the waist and held her so that she could get a better look.

“You know where Sniflheim is, right?”

Erik quickly put his finger right over the small inlet where Sniflheim was nestled. He knew it, but he didn’t care about it. Instead, his eyes wandered across the brown paper, taking in the geography until he found something strange near the bottom of the map.

“What’s this?”

“That’s a volcano.” The priest explained, going into a long lecture about landmass formation and exploding mountains and rock that was so hot that it boiled out from the ground and caught stuff on _fire_.

“Whoa….neat.” Erik breathed, rubbing his fingers over the drawing. “Is there really a volcano here?”

“Yes,” The priest set Mia down, arms tiring, “It’s near a city called Hotto.”

“I wanna go to Hotto.” Erik decided.

“First, you’d need a boat.” The priest laughed. “Hotto is a very different place from here, that’s for sure. You’d have to wear different clothes. You know how you have to wear warm clothes here because it’s cold? Well, _there_ you have to wear cool clothing, because the air is hot. Like a room with a huge fireplace.”

Erik’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped, speechless as he tried to imagine such a thing. 

After studying the map some more and answering dozens more of Erik’s unending questions about the world, the priest ended the lesson on a high note and brought the children some tea with a peppermint stick as a treat.

“I think that’s enough today, don’t you?” He asked brightly as he coaxed Erik away from the map and slipped the hot mug into Erik’s hands.

The minty steam tingled sharply in Erik’s nose. He breathed it in deeply and stirred the tea with his candy. 

“Yeah, okay.” Erik carefully sipped at his hot drink. “We need to go get something to eat, anyway.”

The priest looked up, worried. “Do you have enough money to buy something?”

“Uh huh!” Mia chirped, swinging her feet excitedly as she sat in a pew near the front of the church, swinging her feet and clutching her tea. “We have like a million--”

“Mia!” Erik hissed, though he was glad to see that she seemed to have forgiven him. “We have enough.” He assured the priest.

“Alright then, but if you need _anything_ , you know you can come here.”

“I know.” Erik and Mia both said in unison. 

They finished their hot tea, delighting in the warmth that filled their bellies and traveled straight to their toes, then they headed out to find supper. They decided to eat indoors instead of from a food vendor, that way they could stay warm, and they settled on eating at the local tavern.

Erik loved going to the counter and being able to pay for a meal. It made him feel grown-up. And it also made him happy, knowing that both he and Mia would go to bed with full stomachs tonight.

They feasted on smoked fish, cheese-stuffed baked potatoes, and hot bread dipped in an onion broth. Nobody questioned that the two children were eating there. Everyone knew who they were, and not a soul bothered them. 

“I wish we could live here,” Mia said as she stuffed a morsel of bread into her cheeks. 

Erik sighed. “Well...maybe someday.”

“Why not now?” Mia pressed.

“Because...the Chief won’t let us. You know that.”

It was the only answer Erik had, but for a child, it was good enough. The Chief...the Vikings….that was their whole world. Hard as life was, it was all they knew. Besides, Erik had every confidence that if they tried to hide from the Chief while they were here, he’d still find them. He had a whole army of warriors at his disposal to drudge them up. And then he’d punish them.

Running away later wasn’t an option. To get to Sniflheim from the Viking hideout, they’d have to cross treacherous mountains that were too dangerous to tackle on foot. The Vikings always took a boat to get here.

Not for the first time, Erik wished he could escape and see the world.

They finished supper and went back out into the streets. Erik remained alert and wary, just in case the old lady came back, but he didn’t see her. So the children wandered around, collecting alms into the late afternoon.

When Mia tired of walking, Erik finally gave in and decided to play hide and seek with her.

She hid first, and Erik counted. 

He enjoyed walking the streets, looking for her, checking behind buildings, and snowdrifts piled up on the sides of the roads. It was relaxing, especially as the sun got lower in the sky and the snow stopped falling.

It would be dark soon.

Erik cast a glance toward the tavern and saw the Vikings all heading inside. He rolled his eyes. They’d done their trading, and now they were going to drink the night away. It was the same every time.

Erik found Mia behind a stack of crates near the armory. She began counting as soon as he caught her, forcing him to scramble for cover wherever he could find it. She couldn’t count that high.

A haystack in an animal pen beckoned to Erik, and he dove into it, wriggling down into it and ignoring the sharp, prickling straw. He grinned smugly to himself.

_She’ll never find me here._

Minutes passed. Mia never so much as breezed in his direction. The hay was warm, and even though it itched, Erik started getting sleepy. He dozed off.

And woke up to a scream.

At first he had no idea where he was. It was dark and pokey and smelled bad. But as he remembered what he’d been doing and where he was, Erik battled his way out of the haystack and tumbled into the animal yard.

Sheep bleated in panic, stampeding from one end of the pen to the other, their hooves kicking up mud in the new snow. A man ran around the yard with a hoe, swinging it frantically and shouting.

“Go on! Get outta here!!!” 

The back of Erik’s neck tingled, and as he looked to see what the man was trying to drive away, his heart leapt into his throat. 

_Mia!_

In wolven form. 

She was covered in mud, and scrambling around, dodging the hooves of the sheep and the madman’s swinging hoe. How this man even saw her as a threat made no sense to Erik--Mia was still small and lanky, nowhere near the full size of an adult wolf let alone a werewolf. 

She was just a pup.

Erik sprang to his sister’s aid.

“Wait!” He cried, slipping on mud and ice and trying not to fall as the sheep thundered around him. They were bigger than he was and could have trampled him if he lost his footing. “Stop! Don’t hurt her!”

The man looked up, startled by a young boy running through his sheep pen, covered in straw. 

Erik took advantage of his distraction and dove for Mia as she ran up to him. He gathered her up awkwardly in his arms. She was too big to hold properly but small enough that with some effort on her part, Mia managed to crawl up halfway over his shoulder, hind claws digging into his chest.

The man stormed over to him, and the sheep parted to make way.

“‘Zat your animal?” The man growled.

Erik nodded, not willing to give Mia away. 

“You get that thing outta my sheep pen! _NOW!_ Came in here, stirring up trouble!”

“She didn’t mean to!” Erik defended. “She wouldn’t hurt your sheep!”

She couldn’t. She wasn’t anywhere near big enough to do more than leave a little bite on a leg. And that would just be stupid because then the sheep would kick her to death.

“Oh she wouldn’t, would she? That looks like a damn wolf to me! That ain’t no dog!”

The man towered over Erik, brandishing his hoe threateningly. “You get that _animal_ out of here, or I’ll hack it to bits and feed it to my pigs!!!”

Erik bolted.

Tears stung his eyes, and he clung tightly to Mia as he ran, desperate to get away, desperate to get to safety.

He hated people.

How could they be so cruel?

He ran until they got back to the church, and he shouldered his way through the heavy door. The priest looked up, startled.

“Erik?”

“Please!” Erik cried out. “We have to hide! There’s a man and he’s chasing us! He’s gonna hack up Mia!”

The priest looked bewildered, then frightened, and ran to the door. “Where is Mia?”

Erik’s heart dropped. In his panic, he had forgotten….

He swallowed hard.

“She’s here….” Erik set her down.

Mia shook the mud out of her coat and looked up at the priest entreatingly, tail wagging and ears low.

“What in the name of…. Erik. That’s not Mia.” The priest knelt and grabbed Erik’s shoulders, shaking him. “ _Where_ is Mia?”

“I’m here.”

The priest whirled in time to see her standing there, the last vestiges of bestial artifacts vanishing into human features.

The man turned pale and fell to the floor.

Erik and Mia stayed with the priest, and between the two of them, managed to drag him into a small room at the back of the church. He recovered from fainting quickly enough, but he was in shock for a short time.

Still...when he finally spoke, he didn’t turn the children away.

“Stay here,” He said softly, bringing them blankets and pillows. “Until the Vikings come for you. You’ll be safe here.”

Erik huddled with Mia in the blankets.

“You should be more careful….” The priest said at last as he turned to a small potbelly stove in the corner to set some logs and kindle a fire. “Werewolves...they’re not welcome here. The people would be terrified; they’d think you were monsters. You could have been killed. It’s a good thing you came to me instead of going somewhere else.”

“We’re not monsters…” Erik sniffled, tucking his blanket close to his chin.

The priest turned to them in the soft light of the stove. “I know. But what in Erdrea were you thinking?”

Mia huddled closer to Erik. “We were playing hide and seek. I couldn’t find him….I...I just wanted to smell him out…..And it’s a little easier when….”

“When you’re a wolf….” The priest finished. “Oh, Mia….”

Tears welled up in Mia’s eyes, and she began to cry.

Erik couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with her. He was angrier with _himself_ when he realized that the only reason she’d taken her wolf form was to find _him._ He hugged her close against his side and stroked her shoulder.

The children slept at the church with the priest looking after them.

Sometime after midnight, the Chief arrived to pick them up. He didn’t say anything to them. Didn’t question the coats they were wearing. He merely gathered them up and hurried them along to the ship.

They left under cover of complete darkness.

A gray dawn broke after the ship pulled into port at the hideout. The Vikings spent the last of the night unloading the boat, but to Erik’s surprise, neither he nor Mia were asked to help. They went straight to their shelter.

Well after the first light of morning, the Chief banged on their door.

Erik hurriedly crawled out of bed to greet him.

He withered when he saw the look on the Chief’s face.

“So.” The Chief snarled. “I heard that there was a wolf runnin’ loose in the town, scarin’ livestock. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that now...would ya?”

Mia hunkered down, deep into their pile of tattered blankets, trembling.

Erik sucked in a breath and steeled himself. “It was me.” He lied.

“Was it now?” The Chief growled. “And why would you do a damned fool thing like that, _dog_?”

Erik clenched his fists. He wished he was bigger and braver. Then he’d punch the Chief right in the face for calling him that. Instead, he glanced away.

“I...was just playing.”

“Well then,” The Chief grabbed Erik’s arm and dragged him outside into the blinding sunlight and bitter cold. A biting wind kicked up whirls of fresh powder from the ground. “If you’ve got time for wolf games, then you’ve got time to put your teeth and claws to better use.” The Chief seized Erik by the back of the neck and pushed him down onto his hands and knees. “Vargr! Show me the beast.”

Erik trembled angrily, bare fingers clawing at the snow.

And he obliged.


	5. First Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At ten years old, Erik undergoes intense training to prepare him for his first hunt, and he becomes a formidable tool for the Vikings. His first active hunt pushes him to his limits, both mentally and physically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is late, and I do apologize. Been struggling with low motivation on top of a lot of other things, but hopefully this entry is worth the wait to those who actually read it.
> 
> And to those who do read, thanks for your support. I wouldn't be able to do this without you.
> 
> Anyways, this chapter delves into Erik's view of his own place with the Vikings and how he struggles with the idea of them as his captors versus them as his pack. It's the first time he really lets himself explore his inner wolf, with serious consequences. It also reawakens his repressed memories of the Highlander attack. Most certainly these incidents will affect him in the future....
> 
> \---
> 
> CW for:
> 
> Aggression/violence  
> Hunting/animal death  
> Blood

#  Chapter 5: First Hunt

The hard, dry tree branch creaked and moaned under the fearsome pressure of Erik’s jaws. At either end of the long stick, the Chief’s massive hands held on tightly, trying to yank it out of Erik’s mouth.

Testing his strength.

Challenging his grip, the Chief lifted Erik up off the ground as the young werewolf dangled from the branch by his teeth. The wood moaned and cracked. Then it snapped and splintered.

Erik fell, and his paws hit the cold, rocky ground as the Chief roared triumphant praise. Working his tongue to spit out fragments of wood, Erik looked up, unable to stifle a sense of pride welling up in his chest. 

Chief's praises came so rarely that earning them gave Erik a real sense of accomplishment. 

He wagged his tail ever so slightly. 

"Alright, Vargr." The Chief flashed a hard, toothy smile down at Erik. "Now...we get serious."

Erik blinked. 

Bite force training was no joke, and his jaws already hurt from working at it for hours. Every session, the branches the Chief chose were thicker, stronger, harder to break.

_ The hell is he gonna make me do now? _

Erik wondered, his momentary elation fading quickly, washed out by dread.

The Chief held up a hand. "Hepta." He said, the signal to hold back, stay put.

Erik's ears fell and his tail drooped, but he obediently remained in his position, waiting as the Chief left the training ground. Only the hollow wailing of the icy wind blowing through the mountain pass penetrated the near silence. 

By now Erik was used to the Chief leaving him alone. They both knew he wasn't going to run away and leave Mia behind. 

When the Chief returned, he was carrying a sack. He threw it down onto the frosty earth and pulled out a long strip of deer hide that he quickly wound around his arm.

He grabbed another strip and doubled up, then strapped a thick, leather bracer on over it. Erik cocked his head curiously as the Chief set his feet wide and presented his arm to Erik.

"Sœkja!" The Chief barked.

For just a moment, Erik hesitated. The thought crossed his mind that the Chief might be trying to trick him, might be testing his loyalty in some way. 

_ He can't be serious….  _ Erik mused, although a thrill coursed through his body at the chance to sink his fangs into his tormentor. 

A dark frown passed across the Chief's features, brows knitting in tight frustration. Erik knew the expression well. The Chief expected him to act. Was preparing to demand it.

Erik didn't give him the chance to repeat his order.

Launching forward, Erik snagged the Chief's arm tightly in his jaws, clamping down with all of the anger, all of the pent-up hatred he harbored for the Viking ruler. He allowed his inner wolf full reign, without any of the strict inhibitions that Erik usually enforced upon himself. 

It was a line that he’d never dared to cross.

A line that separated his humanity from his raw, untamed id.

Erik was only barely the size of a small adult wolf, and the impact of his collision with the muscular warrior jarred Erik far more than it jarred the old Viking. But what Erik lacked in size, he made up for with his jaws. 

His bite far outmatched that of a normal wolf.

The leather bracer flexed under the crushing weight of his mouth, and his teeth punctured the thick protection.

Locked on and unwilling to let go, Erik met his tormentor's gaze with icy intensity. Piercing, cruel, and hungry.

The Chief's jaw set, his teeth grinding. His eyes narrowed harshly, and he jerked his arm to try and wrench it free.

Erik only clamped down harder, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest. His hackles rose threateningly.

The Chief tensed and lifted Erik off of the ground, but Erik held on, thrashing his neck and shoulders. His chest burned, and his mind rang with a viciousness that Erik never knew lurked inside of him. His mouth watered, desperate for blood, and his heart hammered with a predatory thrill.

It should have terrified him, and yet in his haze of madness, he only felt exhilarated. Instincts raged for him to kill, to let go of the Chief's arm and go for the throat. He could do it….he could--

"You're enjoying yourself too much." The Chief snarled down at him, expression pained but fierce.

There were no thoughts in Erik's mind, save for the wordless intent to maim, to shred, to  _ devour _ .

"Láta!" The Chief grunted. 

The command barely registered to Erik. He heard it clearly but failed to process it. So the Chief issued it again.

This time, Erik heard and obeyed, relinquishing his hold on the Chief’s padded arm. His obedience only freed his jaws to attack again, and this time, he went for the kill.

Erik leaped from the ground with such speed that the Chief barely reacted in time. Erik’s teeth snapped together, mere inches from the great warrior’s throat as the Chief’s arm struck just below Erik’s chin. Erik fell back, but he landed on his feet and lunged again.

This time, the Chief was ready. 

His heavy fist crashed into the side of Erik’s head. White sparks exploded through Erik's vision, and he struck the ground, tumbling over himself. Unconsciousness claimed him before he even registered pain.

  
  
  
  


Erik came to in the dark, fouled air of the Viking hideout. A sharp, relentless pounding in his head quickly reminded him of his folly.

His senses came back to him, and a terrible sense of dread sank deep into his stomach. 

_ If I'm not dead already, I'm gonna be. _

Erik lamented, struggling to move his limbs. Awareness of his situation crept over him, little by little. A leather muzzle bound his jaws, and a heavy chain looped around his neck. 

He lay on the hard floor, right at the feet of his master.

The Chief sat at a table, his arm bare and laid out for his comrades to see. They were all speaking in the strange language that they used amongst themselves, but even though Erik couldn't understand them, he knew exactly what they were talking about. 

Svend, the Chief's right-hand man, threw a wild gesture in Erik's direction, shouting until his face turned red, while Inga--the fiercest woman among the Vikings--examined her lord's arm with consternation. 

The Chief bellowed a laugh, apparently unswayed by their concern. He banged his fist on the table and rambled at length, but he briefly cast a glance down at Erik.

"Ah, look who's awake." The Chief sneered, turning slowly in his seat.

Erik flinched away, tucking his tail between his legs and pinning his ears. His bright blue eyes widened fearfully. 

The Chief sniggered and looked over at his companions, "There, you see? He's learned his place, and I'd wager he won't be testing it again." The old Viking turned back to Erik, leaning forward and looking down his nose with a deep, threatening grumble. "Will you, dog?"

Hunching his shoulders, Erik glanced away. Svend protested in the Viking tongue, but the Chief spoke in the Trade Tongue for Erik’s benefit. 

“He’ll not kill unless  _ I  _ tell him to! I’m not afraid of this whelp, and you shouldn’t be either. But if you dare to keep questioning my decisions….perhaps you’ll have reason to fear.”

Svend looked away. “Sorry, Chief. It won’t happen again.”

“We’re just worried….” Inga defended. “He got your arm pretty good.”

The Chief roared with laughter. “And I got his head even better. This little love bite--” He gestured to the punctures that Erik left on his forearm, “--Will heal in days.”

“The bite of a werewolf is no laughing matter, Chief. What if...what if you turn?”

“And what if I do?” The Chief’s expression flattened. “It’ll just make me more powerful.”

“The fact that he bit you tells me he can’t be trusted,” Svend muttered bitterly. “No matter what happens.”

“You know what it tells me?” The Chief leaned forward, eyes cold and hard, “It tells me that our little pup is strong and able enough to hunt. If he can break skin even through leather and deerhide, he can help take down a deer.”

Svend and Inga exchanged worried glances, but Inga was the one who spoke, “You’d send him out with the hunting party? Unchained?”

The Chief’s lips twisted into an amused snarl, showing his teeth. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a ten-year-old child.”

  
  
  
  


Summer sunlight peeked through the thick, gray clouds, dappling patches of snow and the dark green pines. The nights were still well below freezing, but during the day, temperatures in the Snӕrfelt warmed enough to melt the snow and keep the rivers flowing.

Erik’s paws pressed into the soft, wet earth as he moved, head low, nose to the ground. The musky scent of a wild boar flooded his nose, and he zigzagged through the woods, following its trail.

Far behind him, the Viking hunting party moved surprisingly stealthily, armed with blades and bludgeons to dispatch whatever quarry Erik flushed out. The trappers had already collected their small kills--hares and a few crack-billed platypunks--from the snares, and they’d lay more traps later after the hunting party finished.

But it was Erik’s job to help take down something big.

The wild boar’s trail led down through the woods and towards the river. The sound of rushing water greeted Erik as he led the party out into the open. He stopped to investigate a large patch of freshly upturned earth, where the boar rooted around for grubs, roots, and mushrooms. 

The scent was new.

Erik’s instincts tingled beneath his skin, and he stiffened, sniffing the air. The boar was somewhere nearby, probably ambling down towards the water. Erik looked back over his shoulder. It was difficult coordinating with humans, who moved so much slower than he did. Nonetheless, the Chief had told him exactly what his purpose was, and that the Vikings all knew their jobs already.

He had to trust them. 

Much as he disliked his human enslavers, he knew they were capable. Certainly more experienced as hunters than he was. Erik waited for them to reach his position, and then he took off running, ready to make the kill.

He slowed as the river came into view at the base of a steep bank, half shrouded in the underbrush. At the water’s edge, the wild boar drank. Crouching low, Erik stalked forward, weaving through the tangles of bushes carefully. Though light on his feet, Erik misstepped.

His paw struck a twig, snapping it.

The boar’s head went up, eyes wide, flat nostrils flaring, body coiled to bolt.

Erik cursed himself for being so clumsy and acted quickly. If the boar ran, fine. He just had to make it run right into the Vikings.

Erik sprang out of the bushes and the boar exploded into a wild run. Erik charged in behind it, herding it towards the hunting party. The beast was huge. Bigger than Erik, certainly. It occurred to Erik that he definitely could not take such a creature all on his own, but the extra jolt of adrenaline merely sharpened his senses and added to his excitement.

He lost himself to his instincts.

The boar became his world, the kill his only goal. The Vikings? Packmates.

Everything fell into place.

The boar slowed and rounded on him as its initial fear wore off, forcing Erik to scramble out of the way to avoid those razor-sharp tusks. The boar kept turning, and Erik danced around it, keeping it busy, looking for an opening.

He quickly changed direction, moving opposite of his quarry, and at once the pig’s haunches came within reach. Erik lunged, sinking his teeth into the thick hindquarters. The boar’s piercing squeal split the air, and it struggled to turn against its attacker. Erik held on, moving just enough to stay out of reach of the boar’s tusks.

The thick, coppery taste of blood running between his teeth and onto his tongue made his heart pound and his ears burn. His paws slipped on mud, but he only clamped his jaws tighter, unwilling to lose his kill. A dull pain struck his chest as a hoofed foot kicked at him, but still, Erik’s bite held.

The excited shouts of the Vikings assailed his ears. The heavily armed humans charged in and surrounded him and the boar in seconds, and the largest of the hunters clubbed the boar across the head. The enraged beast squealed and thrashed, but another blow knocked it down.

All of the Vikings converged then to dispatch it.

The Chief climbed onto its humped shoulders and swiftly buried his hunting dagger in the animal’s neck.

Erik felt the boar go limp. The panicked squealing stopped.

Only then did Erik finally let go.

His pulse still rushed in his ears, but his senses started coming back slowly. Panting as he struggled to catch his breath, Erik watched the Vikings field dress the boar. 

_ I did it.  _ A sense of pride and accomplishment came over him as he stared, licking blood from his jaws.

Well, okay, so maybe Erik hadn’t exactly made the kill himself. But he’d tracked the boar, flushed it out, and held it for the hunters. That was definitely worth something. He hoped it meant he’d get a good share of the meat to share with Mia. He certainly felt like he’d earned it.

Slowly, he became aware of the pain in his chest where the boar had kicked him several times. His jaw ached from holding on so tightly to a struggling behemoth, but other than that he made it out unscathed.

Erik circled around the hunters as they tied the boar to a pole and hauled it up off the ground. He was ready to follow after them as they started moving off, but an unnerving scent caught his attention.

It smelled...musty. Like soil and stale fur with just a hint of fish.

He didn’t know what it was, but every alarm in his body went off. The fur at the back of his neck stood on end, and he turned towards a rustling at the edge of the forest. He spotted a shadow moving there, lurking. It emerged slowly, stepping out on two hind limbs, sunlight glancing off of patchy white and black fur.

The massive, bearlike monster--known as an ursa panda by the locals--trundled forward with long arms sprawled wide, claws curling in anticipation, tongue lolling from its mouth as it drooled hungrily.

_ It smells the blood!  _

Erik glanced frantically towards the Vikings carrying the boar, then back at the ursa panda as it lumbered forward faster, dropping down to all fours.

Unsure of what else to do, Erik ran to the hunting party, circling their legs, trying to get their attention. When they brushed him off, kicking him and scolding him for getting in the way, Erik decided he had no choice but to  _ tell  _ them of the danger.

He transformed into a human, half stumbling over himself as he desperately continued his struggle to get their attention. He staggered in front of them to block their path as the last remnants of his wolven form faded.

“Arm yourselves!” He shouted, earning glances full of confusion, surprise, and annoyance.  _ How dense  _ are  _ these morons?!  _ Erik lamented as the Chief approached him.

“Get out of the way, dog.”

_ Hell, if you guys want to get eaten, be my guest.  _ “Behind you!” Erik snapped, standing up to his master and pointing his finger,  _ finally  _ getting a few hunters to turn their heads.

All too late.

The monster came upon them much faster than Erik expected its huge size and lumbering gait to allow. A paw the size of a dinner plate, armed with claws like knives crashed into the side of the Chief’s head, sending him sprawling.

Time slowed.

Weapons sprang into the hands of the hunters as the ursa panda set upon the Vikings in a violent flurry of claws and teeth. The men at the rear of the group fell quickly, without enough time to react.

The Chief staggered to his feet, blood streaming from long gashes on the side of his face. He drew a huge axe from its place on his back and charged the monstrous creature with a wild battle cry.

The bear met his attack with a swing of its tree trunk of an arm, knocking the Chief off balance.

It all happened so fast.

The thought to flee crossed Erik’s mind.

Let the monstrous, unnatural bear slay the Chief, slaughter the Vikings, and eat their kill. Erik and Mia would be free. They could run and…

And go where?

Out into the snowy wastes where the same fate that befell the Vikings would take them too, in due time?

Erik’s gaze flashed across the conflict between the Chief and the ursa panda. The monster dwarfed the Viking leader, mountain of a man though he was. They exchanged heavy blows. 

Claws grated against armor plating. The axe blade sliced through thick fur and hide at the beast’s shoulder.

The enraged monster went for the Chief’s head with its traplike jaws, strands of thick saliva flying as its maw opened wide. Erik watched the other Vikings running to the Chief’s aid, weapons drawn.

Instinct kicked in.

_ Fight for the Alpha. _

_ Protect the pack. _

They warred with his rational thought. The Vikings were  _ not  _ his pack. His pack was gone, lost to a night of cruel howls and the nightmare werewolf that still appeared in his dreams when he closed his eyes.

Those burning, hellfire eyes.

Those long, daggerlike teeth.

His father, a mere shadow in his memory, swallowed by those jaws. The repressed memories, hazy though they were, surged forth, and the visceral horror that they triggered in Erik yanked the beast back out of him.

Rationality fled. The bear became the demon from his nightmares with its slathering jaws closing on the Chief’s skull. 

Erik’s four legs carried him without so much as a thought. He ignored the Vikings that converged on the great beast as they beat it with their maces and hacked at it with axes. They would kill it, he knew, battering it and carving it to pieces.

But not soon enough. They weren’t going for the one part of the beast that would save the Chief’s life.

Did they not see?

Were they too afraid to accidentally hit the Chief?

Erik harbored no such reservations. He went straight for the monster bear’s face, clamping his jaws over the bridge of the snout, his fangs gouging the ursa panda’s eyes. The beast reared and bellowed, swiping at him with its claws, trying to dislodge him.

It didn’t take much.

Erik was small--far smaller than the monster. He felt its claws slice into his flesh and felt his hold on the creature’s face tearing away, leaving deep, bloody wounds.

The ursa panda thrashed its great neck, and suddenly Erik ripped away, instantly airborne. As he came down, the demon bear looked up at him with fierce, blood-red eyes, its face shredded, fur and skin hanging in red tatters.

Erik saw the huge paw coming up to meet him, and as he fell, there was nothing he could do to protect himself. He took the blow to his chest, and all the air in his lungs escaped him in a sharp, painful gasp. Everything went dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Also, if you like, I do appreciate comments and constructive criticism! As a writer, it helps keep me motivated and lets me know that I'm doing something write (or wrong, and then I can fix).


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